Always Yours
by IchatrinaObsessedSleepyGirl
Summary: AU. In a moment, everything can change. What choices will Ichabod and Katrina Crane make when pushed to the very limit of what they can bear? When happiness is fleeting and tragedy is looming, difficult choices must be made. Are one or both of them willing to sacrifice themselves for everything they hold dear? Or will they succumb to the overwhelming battle that seems ever present?
1. Chapter 1

**Yeah, it's me again ;)**

It had been such a very long day. There wasn't anything about it that hadn't been strictly horrible. From the patients at the infirmary, to her coven's worries, to her step-mother's antics, she was more than ready to put this forsaken day behind her.

In a life filled with so many obstacles and so much pain, there was usually one thing she tried to latch onto each day to take away as beautiful or memorable, but it would seem this was one day that would pass away without mention.

It had been cloudy with showers throughout the day resulting in mud finding its way into every nook and cranny of anything and everything imaginable, resulting in every patient who walked into the infirmary bringing more than just their illnesses to her.

Sighing, she dumped the last bit of water into the tub and stood to let her hair down. As her locks fell about her shoulders, she began unlacing the front of her dress, her entire body feeling as though it were conspiring against her.

Once finished with them, she dipped a finger into the water, allowing her magic to flow through and out of her, warming it to the point of scalding.

As she eased herself into it, she leaned her head back against the tub and allowed her eyes to fall closed as a moan very nearly left her. The feel of the water surrounding her was the most wonderful thing she'd felt all day.

Everything ached as she attempted to allow the water to relax her.

_"Go home and go to sleep."_

_With a sigh, she continued sweeping the dried mud out the door. "I have too much to do here."_

_Mary quickly walked over and snatched the broom. "I am ordering you to go home."_

_Rolling her eyes she turned to her friend. "You're ordering me? I'm your superior not only here, but in our extra-curricular activities as well. I don't take orders."_

_Mary placed a hand on her hip, clearly attempting to look in charge, which might have worked had she not been holding a muddy broom in her other hand. "You've been here since yesterday evening, Katrina. You look like you're about to pass out and that's to say nothing of your appearance."_

_She raised her eyebrows. "My appearance? Are you trying to tell me I look anything less than wonderful?"_

_Shrugging, her friend began sweeping the remainder of the mud. "All I'm saying is that you know who is coming home tomorrow and the sight of you could scare the hair off a cat."_

_Chuckling at her friend's assessment, she shook her head. "I can't leave you here alone. Besides I was supposed to meet with Alfred later to discuss some nearby __disturbances that have been occurring recently."_

_Mary straightened and gave her a pointed look. "Just because you're in charge doesn't mean the rest of us are useless."_

_"I never said you were," she replied quickly._

_"I know, but you don't have to do everything, Katrina," she sighed. "Besides, you and I both know you're going to have to start learning to delegate in the coming months anyway. You might as well start now."_

She'd finally given in to Mary's antics and drug herself home. By the time she'd reached her door, she'd been ready to collapse.

Just as her body finally began to relax in the warm water, a certain sensation began to creep over her causing her eyes to open slightly. At first, as she allowed her senses to search out this odd feeling, she found herself confused. The only sound in the room was the gentle motions of the water, the only light being the few candles scattered about the room, their gentle flickers casting shadows over the walls.

After a moment, it struck her what the sensation was.

Someone was watching her.

Sucking in a slow breath, she gathered her magic about her like a protective shield before quickly spinning to glance at the door.

What she found made her heart skip a beat.

"Ichabod..."

He was leaning against the door frame, his eyes raking over her.

At her utterance of his name, a small smile graced his face. "I'm sorry, my love. I didn't mean to startle you."

Releasing a light chuckle as she breathed a sigh of relief, she smiled. "You didn't." Holding out her hand to him, she felt her skin prickle when he touched her. "I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow."

As he knelt beside the tub, he reached up to push some of her hair behind her ear.

"I couldn't resist the opportunity to hurry home," he said with a smile. "I missed you."

The overwhelming rush of emotion she felt resulted in her breathing to become shallow.

"You did?"

His hand began a slow trail down her neck, his eyes following their path. "So much."

Covering his hand with her own, she whispered, "I missed you, too."

She smiled as her eyes took in his mud covered uniform. "I hope you didn't track all of that through my house."

His eyebrows shot up, a sheepish expression crossing his face. "I don't recall."

Biting her lip, she brought her other hand to the collar of his uniform and twisted it between her fingers. "Perhaps I should punish you."

It always amazed her how a few simple words strung together into a sentence could give her complete control of him.

The smirk that lit his face caused her to hold in a chuckle. "Really? I suppose I must endure whatever you have planned, then."

Sliding the top button of his uniform through its opening, she caught his eyes. "Finish it."

The speed at which he stood to remove his shirt and trousers caused her to lean back with a barely contained expression of glee.

When he was finished, she leaned up so he could slide in behind her.

It didn't take him but a moment to wrap his arms around her and pull her back into his front.

Turning her head into his neck, she breathed in his musky scent, the smell of earth and trees washing over her.

"I'm so happy you're home," she whispered as she placed chaste kisses along his throat.

His chest tightened against her back. "I wish I could spend more time here with you."

Pulling back to catch his eyes, she slid a hand into his hair. "You're here, now. Let's just enjoy that for the time being."

With a small nod, his mouth fell to her neck, his warm breath tickling her skin. "Did you have a good day?"

A chuckle escaped her. "It was absolutely horrible, at least until you made me nearly jump out of my skin."

She didn't have to see his face to know he was smiling.

"I brightened your day, did I?"

Fingers twirling his loose strands, she shrugged. "Perhaps."

"Don't steal my moment, Katrina."

Grinning, she leaned her head against his shoulder to catch his dancing blue orbs. "I wouldn't dream of it, my love."

His eyebrow rose as he leaned down to brush his lips over hers.

The way he kissed her, whether gentle, rough, or even thoroughly filthy, always amazed her. How he could encompass his love in a single kiss, no matter the kind, never failed to leave her breathless and in want of much, much more.

As his hand slid down her body to that one placed that never ceased in its desire for him, she knew it was time.

"Ichabod..."

"Mhmm..." he muttered his warm breath teasing her ear.

The absence of actual thought was quickly approaching as his fingers teased her unabashedly, stroking and rubbing in varying rhythms.

"My love...I-"

Short, quick breaths began to escape her as that all too familiar sensation began to build in the pit of her belly.

"I-I have something to tell you."

His fingers inside her became a distant memory as his thumb slid over her clit drawing an uncontainable moan from her.

"Oh...please...

"Tell me," came his husky voice against her burning skin.

Tightening her hold in his hair, she gripped his wrist as it rotated against her, the warm water gently splashing around their jerking hands.

"I-I'm...oh-Icha-"

And then everything was a hazy rush of lips, fingers, and surging warmth.

Heavy pants fell from her as she slumped against him, her body tingling.

His lips at her throat began the first steps of easing her back down from his still light strokes within her.

"You had something to say?"

Letting her head fall to the side, she gave him a lazy smile. "I don't think I remember anymore."

As he tenderly pulled his fingers from her, she sighed, "I love you."

Hand now at her neck, he pulled her mouth to his, the movement shifting his manhood against her back.

Speaking against his unrelenting lips, she whispered, "I can-"

"It's alright."

Eyes catching his, she frowned. "My love..."

His hand tugged her back to his mouth, his tongue immediately teasing her lips into opening.

With his body so wonderfully in need of hers, she felt the overwhelming urge to put words to her news.

Reluctantly parting from him, she lifted a hand to stroke his cheek, nervousness suddenly taking hold of her. "I have something to tell you."

Confusion permeated his features. "Is everything alright?"

Eyes dancing along his face, she semi-shrugged. "Yes, at least...I think so. Well, I hope. I mean,-"

"My love, what's wrong?"

Perfect. She'd gone and caused worry to fill him.

Pushing down her nerves, she caught his eyes, her fingers threading with his over her belly. "Ichabod...I'm-we're...we're going to have a baby."

For a moment, it didn't seem as if he had understood. He simply stared at her, his mouth slightly agape, his body completely still.

Then, ever so slowly, his eyes trailed to their hands.

She continued, her nerves in a bundle. "I know it wasn't planned and... I understand if you're upset. We planned to wait until the war was over so we could raise our children together, but I-"

His mouth covering hers stopped her words in their tracks.

She wasn't entirely sure what this meant. Was he happy? Angry? His kiss certainly felt good natured in its intensity.

As he finally pulled away, he laid his forehead against hers. "I love you, Katrina Crane."

Well, she knew that.

"What does that mean?"

Chuckling, he moved back slightly to gaze into her eyes. "It means that I'm the happiest man in the world right now."

Relief washed through her. "You are? You're not... disappointed?"

His hand untangled from hers to lie flat over her belly. "We created a life together, Katrina." A smile lit his face. "It's everything I've ever wanted."

Inexplicable joy filled her.

"It is for me as well, my love."

* * *

><p><strong>Before I get into the details, I'd like to assure all my readers of A Different Life that that story is still gonna continue to be updated every few days. It's completely written, so don't worry about that. ;)<br>Anyway, this chapter was actually a one-shot I'd written two weeks ago that kinda just kept going and going and before I knew what had happened, I had 25 chapters on my hands with no end in sight.  
>I usually don't start posting a fic until I have it done, so we'll see how this one goes...I do have a pretty nice idea of where it's going, though.<br>The original idea came from all the requests I've gotten to give Ichatrina a baby, so here it is...  
>Though, this story did just kinda come out of left field and, without giving too much away, is going to be an emotional rollercoaster. I might have cried a few times while writing it, just saying lol<br>There's going to be lots of drama and babies and angry parents and surprise characters and witchy stuff and towards chapter sixteen, horrible, horrible misfortune.  
>It's mostly gonna be Katrina's POV, but will shift to Ichabod every now and then just to see what his pretty head is thinking about.<br>Anyway, I hope you guys and gals stick with me and enjoy this story ;)**


	2. Chapter 2

If there was one hobby in all the world he had to choose from as his favorite, it would be exactly what he was doing at this moment.

Eyes raking over her slender form, he allowed a small smile to cross his face.

She was beautiful beyond words.

The soft fluttering of her eyes as she dreamed. The perfection of her nose as it allowed life to be breathed into her precious lungs. Her mouth, so soft and plump, just begging to be kissed, her lips hiding a cavern of warmth he so adored exploring.

The slender form of her throat as it connected to her collar bone, his favorite place to attach himself in their moments of passion. The way her chest rose and fell in even patterns, her breasts reaching for him with each rise.

His smile widened as his eyes journeyed further down, taking in the flat surface of her belly.

Unable to resist, he placed a hand upon it, his fingers dancing along in small patterns. The very thought of what lie beneath caused his heart to constrict in joy.

A child. Their child.

There could be no more beautiful a thought.

He could almost imagine it.

They'd not planned it, nor had they outright avoided it. In their five months of marriage, they'd simply allowed themselves to be free with the other, deciding if a baby came of it, then it would come of it. The war had posed a problem in their time together and he'd put on a good show of agreeing with her decision to wait, not that they'd ever taken an ounce of precaution. Katrina still, however, constantly worried over his absence and what that would mean for a child, but he'd always secretly hoped that with every new meeting of their bodies that they would create what now lay beneath his hand, a piece of their love made whole.

Softly tracing his fingers over her smooth skin, he became so entranced, he nearly missed it, the subtle change in her breathing.

Gaze darting to her face, he found her green eyes focused on him.

For a brief period, they simply stared at each other. Their silence conveying as much of their feelings as any words could.

None were needed. The knowledge of her love was forever branded upon his heart.

The desire to ensure his love was truly hers filled him, though he knew she would never doubt it.

Resolve to show her just how loved and appreciated she was guided his actions as his mouth fell to the flesh of her shoulder, placing a gentle kiss upon her smooth skin.

Adjusting his body, he began at her ear, his lips and tongue tracing its shell, the soft gasp that left her bringing a small grin to his face.

Next, came her slender throat, his nips prompting her hand to find the back of his neck as she arched her head back into the pillow beneath her, offering herself more fully to him.

He trailed a path of kisses over her collar bone, pausing to suckle at his forever favorite place, before continuing to her chest, the likes of which was deepening in response to his actions.

Upon reaching the top of her wonderfully crafted breast, he slid a hand up to play equally with the other, his fingers gently teasing at its fully erect stiffness.

He was determined to lather her with more attention than she could bear.

Softly suckling at her plump breast, he couldn't help his urge to drag his teeth along her erect nipple.

A low sigh fell from her lips pulling his gaze up.

Her eyes were heavy as she observed him through small slits, her mouth slightly open.

Encouragement wasn't required, but as her hand slid into his hair, he felt the need in the gentle pressure of her fingers as they caressed his locks.

Returning to his task, he reluctantly parted from her succulent breast, to continue his journey down her form.

Open-mouthed kisses were a must along her soft, yet hard abdomen, at least until he reached her perfectly indented belly button.

Tongue slipping between his lips, he dipped into her, the tightening of her stomach signaling her appreciation.

Upon his completion of his mission there, he journeyed slightly further down and paused over her belly, the place their purest of creations resided.

With a smile, he placed a light kiss to his child, silently thanking heaven for their precious gift.

Katrina's fingers fell from his hair to rest along his cheek inciting another glance up her body.

The love he found shining behind her green orbs attempted to overwhelm him in its intensity as he lifted a hand to cover hers, threading their fingers together before bringing them to his lips to place a gentle kiss to her knuckles.

More determined than ever before in his mission to physically love her, he dropped his mouth back to her smooth flesh, his next destination in mind.

To love her was the simplest of acts he'd ever committed himself to, though it was never entirely his choice. It was a natural occurrence that had turned his entire existence into a goal of being hers until the end of time.

Sliding his free hand beneath her body, he lifted her slightly to acquire access to her most intimate of places.

Before any contact was even made between them, her scent had already invaded his being.

The result forced him to suck in a breath as he rested his forehead to her hip, attempting to control the raging need of his own body.

The desire to be fulfilled was tugging at him desperately.

Determination won out, however, as he returned his attention to his beloved, her body more than prepared for what was to come.

As his mouth made contact with the inside of her thigh, the fingers of her other hand slid into his hair, tightening with obvious anticipation.

This was his second favorite hobby, one that he took great pride in.

The ability to please his wife in unspeakable ways was, in his opinion, his greatest achievement.

Opportunity upon opportunity at this type of act had been presented to him in his time before Katrina. Women, it seemed, in most company, were considered as less than anything other than a means to an end in the world of men.

They were warm bodies, placed in the world for the pleasures of their superior counterparts.

It had never been so for him.

The opportunities arrived, he considered partaking, coming close upon many occasions, before a feeling of emptiness at the thought invaded him. He had never understood his hesitation in completing his desires.

His manners with women had always been respectful, even in the most precarious of taverns. Pretty ladies would approach him and the desire to fulfill the ache within his trousers had pressed him to accept, but his need for more had never failed to halt him before completing his actions.

This wasn't to say he'd never sought out pleasures, though they had been few and far between. A beautiful woman with her body pressed solidly to his, her fingers and lips dancing along his manhood, or his searching the hidden treasures beneath her skirt.

But now, here with his love, his understanding was whole. It was resolute.

His contentment in delaying his needs in the light of hers was a feeling that spoke volumes to him.

As her warmth encircled his searching fingers, he finally allowed his attention to settle upon her most pleasurable of places, his tongue slipping out to taste the uniqueness that was his Katrina.

The response of her arching body and soft cries of his name gave him a burning sense of accomplishment.

Moments later, after her squirming was completed, he placed one last kiss to her warmth, before sliding his body up to resume his place at her side.

The satisfaction gracing her sparkling green eyes and wonderfully crooked grin brought about his own smile.

Sliding a hand into her red locks, he softly brushed his lips over hers and whispered, "Thank you."

"For what? I'm pretty sure you just did all of the work."

Chuckling, he ghosted his fingers along her cheek. "For giving me the second most precious gift I've ever received."

Her smile reached her eyes as her hand covered his, threading their fingers together. "We did it together."

"Perhaps," he whispered, leaning into her welcoming warmth once more.

After a while of playful teasing, she pulled back with a frown. "What's the first gift? I'm fairly positive I've never heard you mention anything that could even remotely measure up to our child."

With a smile, he dropped his mouth to her ear. "The most precious gift I've ever received is that of your heart."


	3. Chapter 3

The music currently playing in the background was causing her eyes to grow weary. It was late and she and Ichabod were unfortunately in attendance at one of her father and step-mother's parties.

The guests all consisted of people that she would rather not speak to, but out of politeness forced herself to anyway. Their ever enduring gossip and superiority, however, seemed to only worsen her mood as she plastered a less than true smile to her face.

Thankfully, her husband was taking care of most of the conversing. He was well aware that she was tired and in need of a little rescuing as they both feared her patience would slip at any time.

It had been a long day and she was more than ready to climb into her big bed with Ichabod and allow him to help her put it all behind her.

Their time together was always so precious. The idea of spending even a second of it in such a wasteful manner always bothered her to no end, but she also knew she couldn't exactly keep him locked up in their house the whole time either, no matter how much he begged her to do just that.

She was well aware of his love of conversation and refused to rob him of that in his time away from the war.

"Katrina, dear, why don't you move about the room and mingle? It's extremely rude of you to stand here and not speak to anyone."

Biting back the reply she would have loved to give her step-mother, she chose to simply nod instead.

"Of course." Turning to Ichabod, who wore an expression of complete and utter disdain for the woman in front of him, she gave a tight smile. "Ichabod, would you care to move and mingle with me? I'd hate for you to be perceived as rude as well."

Offering his hand to her, he gave her a playful smile as he began to lead her more toward the center of the room.

He leaned in close and whispered, "I'd love to rudely leave this stuffy house and mingle with you elsewhere..." his lips brushed her ear. "In much less stuffy clothing."

Her mouth twitched as she did her best to keep from laughing out loud. "And just what type of clothing would you like us to wear?"

He pulled back with a raised eyebrow as his eyes swept down her form. "The kind we were born with."

This time her laugh did escape, but her response to inform him of her consent to his want was interrupted.

"Well, if it isn't the Crane's in all their complete and utter perfection."

Rolling her eyes, she turned to Mary while Ichabod chuckled. "It's always wonderful to be recognized for what you are."

Now, Mary was the one rolling her eyes as she closed the distance between them.

Ichabod and Mary had an odd sort of relationship. They constantly bickered with one another, more so to grate her nerves than anything else in her opinion.

After she and Ichabod had married, her childhood friend had been less than thrilled. In all her twenty-five years of life, Mary had always been there, whether it was a bully in need of a lesson, or a hand to be held as her father screamed in one of his drunken rages. Her friend had been fierce in her devotion and protection.

When Mary had learned of the news of what she and Ichabod had done, she'd had to take the time to sit her friend down and assure her that nothing would really change. It had been a bit confusing at first as she had thought that if anyone would have seen it coming, it would have been Mary.

_"Oh, look, there comes the love of your life."_

_With a roll of her eyes, she sighed, "Mary, Abraham is not the-"_

_"Ms. Cooper."_

_Nearly jumping out of her skin, she spun to find not Abraham, but Ichabod coming to a stop behind her._

_"Ms. van Tassel."_

_The difference in the way he said their names wasn't lost on her._

_"Mr. Crane," Mary said, stepping forward. "I see you've made it back to our small town once more."_

_He smiled and she felt her breathing change slightly as his eyes caught hers. _

_"Well, it is a lovely town," he answered._

_"It is, isn't it?" Mary glanced at her with raised eyebrows. "So lovely."_

_Finally getting a hold on herself, she asked, "What brings you back to Sleepy Hollow?"_

_"Oh, I was delivering some documents."_

_Mary nodded. "How long will you be here?"_

_"I'm returning to camp just as soon as I search out a proper meal." He chuckled. "Though, I've already declined a few." He stepped forward with a conspiring glance about. "Are all the women here so forward?"_

_She raised an eyebrow as Mary let out a rather loud and, as her step-mother would call it, unladylike laugh. The woman swore Mary would never find a husband._

_"You're a soldier and, if I'm forced to admit it, not too terrible a sight. They all think lunch will be the first step in garnering them a new husband."_

_At her friend's declaration, she couldn't help but close her eyes for a moment. Mary was always so tactful._

_"Tell me, Mr. Crane," Mary continued. "Any possibilities?"_

_He shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting to hers, then quickly falling to his boots._

_"I'm afraid I don't have the time."_

_"You have responsibilities," she offered quietly._

_Eyes back on her, he nodded with a small smile. "Yes."_

_"Well, as Katrina's taken and I would refuse if you tried, why don't you join us for lunch?"_

_"Oh, I wouldn't want to intrude on you ladies outing," he answered quickly._

_"Nonsense," Mary said with a wave of her hand. "Tell him, Katrina. He'll listen to you."_

_Knowing her friend would only continue making things more awkward if she refused, she gave him a small smile. "Please, join us. It would be good to hear about your time in the colonies."_

_With a nod, he answered, "Of course. I have one more document to deliver, but I'd be delighted to join you."_

_Mary clapped her hands together. "Wonderful! We'll be just up the street at the diner." She patted his shoulder with a wink. "I'll save you a seat right next to Katrina."_

_Ichabod shot her another uncomfortable look before clearing his throat. "Yes, well, I'll just-alright."_

_As he moved away, she looped an arm through Mary's and jerked her close. "Mary-"_

_"Let's just skip the lecture on propriety and move right into your denial that the two of you are completely enthralled with one another."_

_Her eyes widened. "Mary! We barely know each other. I've had a grand total of maybe five conversations with the man."_

_Mary glanced at her. "I'm aware. I was eavesdropping on the greater majority of them."_

_Shooting her friend a glare, she shook her head. "So, then, you know we've never done anything inappropriate."_

_With a shrug, Mary answered, "That depends on your definition of inappropriate."_

_"Well, what definition are you using, Mary, because it must be very different from mine?"_

_"The one where I watch the two of you as you speak." Her friend sighed. "I know I joke, Katrina, but the two of you look at each other like two people who've known each other for years rather than months. You talk about deep emotional issues, things you've never even shared with me."_

_Brushing off her friend's assessment, she shook her head. "He's had a difficult time since his decision to turn to our side. He needs a friend as his family has completely abandoned him." She paused before whispering, "We're the same in that way."_

_"Oh," Mary huffed. "I see. I suppose I'm just nothing compared to Mr. tall, dark, and handsome."_

_With a grin at her friends false hurt, she sighed, "Come on. Let's get a table and wait for him. I'm sure you're simply dying to make the both of us even more uncomfortable."_

_"I do quite enjoy it. Hmm..." she hummed, bringing a finger to her chin in thought. "I think I'll lead with how pretty the babies would be and watch you both mutually turn the color of your hair."_

_Shaking her head again, she pulled Mary into the diner, sure this lunch would be memorable._

Mary had always known.

Since their marriage, though, Mary and Ichabod had taken it upon themselves to attempt pulling her in all directions. If she wasn't with one, she was with the other. When together, they would take up opposite sides of her, each trying to garner her attention the most.

In simplest terms, the baby she was now carrying wouldn't be her first.

"Must the two of you do this tonight?" she sighed. "I'm not in the mood."

Ichabod's hand squeezed hers affectionately. "Of course, my love."

Mary huffed as she looped an arm through her free one. "I need to talk to Katrina." Her eyes narrowed at Ichabod. "In private."

Her husband's hand only tightened around hers. "You can't do that at another time? Perhaps tomorrow when you get to spend all day with her at the infirmary?"

Mary's eyebrow shot up in a challenging manner. "Jealous?"

"Mary-" she began, only to be interrupted by an irate Ichabod.

"Jealous? Of you?" He chuckled. "Hardly."

Having had enough, she stepped forward, thoroughly disengaging herself from the both of them before turning, irritated.

"I actually see someone I need to speak with, so," she said, taking Ichabod's arm and looping it through Mary's. "The two of you keep each other company until I return."

They both opened their mouths to protest, but she held up a hand. "Either you remain like this until I return, or you," she said pointing at Mary. "Will have every dirty, disgusting task at the infirmary tomorrow and you," she added, turning to Ichabod. "Will get nothing out of me tonight."

If Mary had looked horrified, Ichabod was ten times worse.

He quickly nodded. "I will be sure to keep Ms. Cooper in line, my love."

Mary's gaze jerked to him with a glare that should have dropped him on the spot.

With a glance around, she suddenly smirked. "Oh, look," she said, gesturing across the room. "It's Mrs. Tucker and I do believe she's eyeing you, Mr. Crane. Why don't we go pay her a visit?"

Without further ado, Mary began dragging him in the woman's direction as he cast a pleading look back at her.

Chuckling, she simply shrugged.

Mrs. Tucker had cornered Ichabod upon many occasions to his utter horror. The woman's thick perfume had the ability to stick to you long after you had departed from her and her roaming hands never failed to make Ichabod uncomfortable in the extreme.

With a last glance at her two favorite children, she turned to search out some refreshment.

* * *

><p>When she'd finally returned to relieve Mary of her husband, he'd been more than a little put out.<p>

Now, she was tasked with his incessant speech about how irritating her friend was.

Needing an outlet to distract him from his woes, she glanced about, finding just what she was looking for.

"See that woman over there?" She leaned up and whispered in his ear. "The one in the blue dress?"

As he searched out and found the woman, he nodded.

"She was nearly Lady van Tassel."

She could tell she'd gotten Ichabod's attention as his eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

"Yes. After my mother passed, the vultures swooped in shortly thereafter. They, of course, at least pretended to wait a respectful amount of time, but even as soon as the day of her funeral, they began coming over, offering their..._condolences_."

They smiled as they passed the guests. "Do you know how my father picked his new wife?" she asked with a smirk. "He flipped a coin."

Ichabod stopped to shoot her a look of disbelief. "You're not serious."

Smiling at him, she continued, "I couldn't be more serious. They were married within three months of her death. When it came time to choose, Mrs. Lewis, there, lost out due to a coin toss."

Ichabod was still shocked.

"Don't worry over her, my love. She recovered rather quickly with Mr. Lewis, the rather portly man to her right."

"I suppose that's nice," he mumbled under his breath.

Delighted in having stumped him, she threaded her fingers through his. "Just promise that if something should happen to me, you'll not do such a thing to our children. I assure you that I will return to haunt you should you make such an error."

Earning a chuckle from her husband, he brought their hands up to place a kiss upon her knuckles. "I'll make no such promise. I refuse to allow anything to happen to you."

Her expression faltered slightly. "I hope that is so, my love."

Ichabod looked as though he were about to respond when her father interrupted them.

"Katrina, I'd like you to meet Mr. Kent."

She and Ichabod stepped apart slightly to turn to the two men.

"He's just moved into town and purchased Mr. Hubbard's land. He'll be in need of someone to show him around town. I thought, perhaps, you could be of service to him."

In the five months since she and Ichabod had married, her father still refused to acknowledge it. His disdain over her broken engagement to Abraham, a man who could have provided her father with a generous amount of wealth, was seemingly always apparent.

"It's lovely to meet you, Mr. Kent, but I'm afraid I must decline." Pulling Ichabod closer to her, she smiled. "You see, my husband is only home for a short time and I'd like to spend as much of it with him as possible. I'm sure you understand?"

She didn't know which expression to take in first. Her father's obvious disapproval, or Mr. Kent's surprise as he looked between her and Ichabod.

"Your husband? I'm sorry. I-I wasn't aware that you were married."

Offering a proud smile, she glanced to Ichabod. "I am. This is Ichabod Crane, my husband."

Ichabod, who was quite tense, extended his hand to the man. "How are you enjoying our town, Sir?"

After a moment, the man seemed to gather his senses, accepting the hand shake. "Ah, yes. It's a lovely town. I'm growing quite fond of it actually.

Katrina took it upon herself to remove her and Ichabod from this conversation. She could clearly see Ichabod ready to strangle the man from his obvious less than proper glances toward her.

"If you'll excuse us, Ichabod and I were just about to search out refreshment."

Not waiting for their response, she began pulling Ichabod away.

Bypassing the table of food and drink completely, she continued to pull him further into the house until she reached her old room.

Shutting the door behind her, she turned to her husband, who had taken up pacing back and forth.

"That man...I could just.."

"Ichabod-"

"He's completely immature in his treatment of you. I should go back out there and-"

Bridging the space between them, she took him by the arm and laid a finger over his lips. "Don't pay my father any attention. I don't."

Hands sliding down his neck, she twisted the hair at the nape of his neck between her fingers.

"Besides, I think you should stay right here with me," she whispered as she leaned into him. "I love it when you get all flustered over me."

He pulled her firmly into him, brushing her lips as he spoke. "Well, then, you must love me very much at this moment."

The act of kissing Ichabod Crane was her absolute favorite thing in the world to do. The feelings he stirred in her set her very soul ablaze.

Little encouragement was ever needed for him to anticipate her every want and need. The result of which had his hands now sliding into the back of her hair as he teased her mouth open.

Access granted, she couldn't contain the moan that slipped from her as his tongue ran across the roof of her mouth.

"_Katrina_!"

Abruptly pulling back from Ichabod, she turned to face her father and step-mother, who had both now entered the room and shut the door.

"Father, is there something you need?"

His face was completely red and she knew it was more from anger than embarrassment for intruding on her private moment with Ichabod. Aware that her offhand manner in which she addressed him would only further his anger, she reached for Ichabod's hand, threading her fingers through his, needing all the support she could acquire.

"Do you have any idea who that man was? What he could offer to this family? And for you to completely disregard him in such a manner!"

Ichabod's entire body jerked forward, forcing her to place her other hand on his chest to hold him still.

"What he could offer? In case you haven't noticed, father, I already have a husband."

"A temporary setback," he bit out. "He's a soldier, Katrina. He'll be dead soon enough."

Katrina felt her anger growing to match that of her father's.

Ichabod's hand in tow, she began walking toward the door. "Ichabod and I are leaving."

Her father, however, stepped in front of them. "I've had enough of this rebelliousness of yours, Katrina. You've had your way long enough. It's time for you to protect your families interests. Your mother and I did not raise you to act this way."

"My mother is dead!" she yelled before throwing up a hand to point at her step-mother. "That whore that you call your wife had no more to do with my upbringing than you did."

He reached out as if to grab her, but Ichabod had hold of him before he could touch her. "Lay a hand on my wife and I will end you."

With that warning, Ichabod shoved him back.

Emotions completely out of sorts, she bit down her sob. "I have longed for your love my entire life, but all I've ever been to you is someone to bargain away. I married Ichabod because he loves me, but you have no idea of the meaning of the word. My mother was not cold in the ground before you took _her_ to your bed." Shaking her head, she sighed. "You did not raise me. I am who I am because I had to fight for every moment of my life to simply survive in this house. So forgive me, father, for my selfish act of, for once in my life, seeking out a road to happiness, whether it be a day or a year." She gripped Ichabod's hand. "I'm finished. Until you can learn to respect my marriage, I am through with you."

More than ready to get out of this awful house, she opened the door before glancing back at him. "And by the way, congratulations. You're going to be a grandfather."

Not waiting for his reaction, she turned, only to find that every guest, on both the top and lower floors in the house, was staring at her as she did so. The only thing that kept her from screaming at each and every one of them as well was Ichabod's hand at her back.

"Come, my love. Let us go home."

* * *

><p>She managed to contain herself until she stepped inside her house.<p>

Upon the door shutting behind them, she began to pull at the tight dress that felt as if it were cutting off her oxygen.

"Katrina..."

"I can't breathe," she whimpered.

It wouldn't come off. The laces were tangling in her fingers as she couldn't see through her tears.

"Let me help you, my love."

"No!" she shouted, pushing his hand away. "I can do it. I don't need anyone's help. I've always taken care of myself and now is no different. I can do it alone."

His hands cupped her face and forced her to look at him. "But you don't have to. You're not alone anymore, Katrina. I'm here and I will _never_ leave you."

The determination swirling behind his blue eyes shook her to her core.

"Ichabod..."

Legs giving out, she slumped forward into his waiting arms, tightly gripping his shirt in her hands.

"It's alright, my love. Everything's going to be alright."

"I'm not weak."

She hated showing weakness. Her whole life she'd had to be strong, never allowing anyone to see her weaknesses.

Ichabod's chuckle prompted her to pull back from him in confusion. "You're laughing at me?"

He smiled at her as he brought her hands to his lips and kissed them. "I'm sorry, my love. I just don't see how anyone could think of you as weak. Why, the very day I met you, you marched right in, put me in my place, and showed no fear to the many soldiers surrounding you." He shook his head. "You are the farthest from weak of anyone I know, my beautiful wife."

Releasing her own laugh, she smiled at him, having no idea how he managed to make even the worst moments laughable.

"I love you, Ichabod."

Leaning down, he placed a light kiss to her forehead. "I know."

Rolling her eyes at him, she slapped him lightly on the chest. "How about you help me out of this dress?"

A mischievous smile overtook his face. "It would be my profound pleasure, Mrs. Crane."


	4. Chapter 4

"Come back home with me."

Grinning up at him, she replied, "You know I can't."

His hands at her waist pulled her closer as his mouth found her ear. "Please, come home with me."

The hot breath of his words hit her, sending sensations shooting right down her spine.

"Are you trying to seduce me?"

He chuckled against her skin. "That depends upon if it's working."

Judging from the slight dampness she felt against her thighs, she would say yes, but he didn't need to know that.

"Not at all," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

He pulled back to look at her, his eyes narrowed. "You're lying."

Eyebrow shooting up, she laughed. "I wouldn't dare. Besides, you're not as irresistible as you think, Mr. Crane."

With a tilt of his head, he slid his hands further down to pull her more firmly into him, allowing the feel of his desire to press into her belly.

"Ichabod," she scolded with a chuckle.

He leaned his forehead to hers. "Please, come home with me."

Very nearly ready to give into him, the clearing of a throat caused her to jump.

Turning to look at the intruder upon their moment, she rolled her eyes.

"I thought the two of you already made a baby. No sense in carrying on right here in the middle of the infirmary."

She shot her friend a pointed look. "Perhaps we're just reliving the experience of how and where we made the baby."

Mary's eyes widened slightly. "You did not."

"So sure about that, aren't you?"

Ichabod cleared his throat. "I suppose I should leave you ladies to your duties."

Returning her gaze back to him, she slid her hands down his arms to grasp his fingers. "Don't go."

He chuckled. "What? You want me to stand here and watch you all day?"

With a shrug, she smirked up at him. "How is that any different from what you do at home?"

"Because," he whispered with a brush of his lips to hers. "At home, once I'm finished staring, I get to have my way with you."

Eyes dancing with mirth, she replied, "And who says I won't let you have your way with me here?"

His mouth twitched as his gaze raked down her body. "Where?"

"The same place as last time."

He raised an eyebrow.

_"Harder," she ordered, digging her fingers into his shoulders._

_His head lifted to lay against hers. "I don't want to hurt you."_

_Wrapping her legs tighter around him, she tangled her hands in his hair. "Please..."_

_"Katr-"_

_She cut him off by covering his mouth with hers, forcing her tongue between his lips to press deeply into him. The subsequent groan that left him was all it took to gain her request as his hips began thrusting more frantically against her._

_"Oh God..." she moaned, throwing her head back against the wall as his body began to press into her clit._

_The small table she was propped on began to knock into the wall as his thrusts became more erratic._

_When his mouth fell to her breast, sucking at her through her dress, she felt her release slam through her forcefully._

_"Don't stop, please, don't stop," she began to mumble as her body clenched and spasmed around him, her vision going hazy as her eyes slammed shut._

_"You're so perfect," he whispered, moving his lips up her neck._

_Finally gaining control of herself, she tugged at his shoulders until she had him flush against her, her hips jerking against his to help him reach his end._

_"Katrina...I'm-"_

_His words fell away as he suddenly gripped her hips so tightly she was sure she'd have bruises later, but she paid that little mind as t__he feel of his warmth spreading inside her surged through her as she held him close while his end continued to flood through him._

_When he finally slumped against her, she couldn't hold in her grin. "This was new."_

_He lifted his head to catch her eyes. "You're going to be the death of me. I'm sure of it." He shook his head, his ragged breaths washing over her face. "I can't breathe."_

_Opening her mouth to reply, she was cut off by a voice._

_"Katrina?"_

_Shoving him away, she quickly moved off of the table to adjust her dress as he began to fumble with his trousers._

_"Katrina? Where are you?"_

_When the door to the closet opened, she quickly turned and knocked some supplies off of the shelves._

_"What are you doing?"_

_Turning to face her friend, she explained, "Oh, uhm, we were just acquiring some supplies and accidentally knocked some over."_

_Mary looked between them for a moment, a frown creasing her features. "Why was the door closed?"_

_"Well...I, uhm..."_

_She honestly didn't have a reason for that._

_"That was me," Ichabod began to her relief. "I must have closed it unconsciously. I have a tendency to do that."_

_Her relief melted away as she shot him a furtive glance._

_Mary's eyebrow shot up. "You have a tendency to close yourself up in closets?"_

_He shrugged as his gaze fell to his boots. "I'm... a very odd man."_

_Pressing her lips tightly together, she closed her eyes._

_Mary's chuckle, however, brought them back open. "You really need to teach him how to lie a bit better, Katrina." She reached forward and grabbed a roll of bandage off the shelf. "Now, send your lover home so you can come help me out here. Mr. Daniel's just came in with his finger hanging on by a thread."_

_With that, Mary exited the closet._

"I've never been so embarrassed in all my life."

Chuckling, she threaded their fingers together. "It was worth it."

Nodding, he smiled. "I'll be back this evening to walk you home."

While she hated to release him, she knew Mary was waiting for her. "Promise?"

He brushed his lips over hers again. "Promise."

When he stepped back and began making his way down the steps, she smiled as he almost immediately found someone to talk to.

"The two of you are sickeningly sweet."

Turning to Mary, she rolled her eyes. "You really need to get married, Mary. It'll improve your mood considerably."

Mary sighed. "Well, if you hadn't stolen the only desirable man in all of the colonies..."

With a smile, she glanced about the infirmary. "Isn't Alfred supposed to be here by now?"

Mary shrugged before moving to clear some used supplies from the table. "He should be here soon. He was out contacting the others about tonight's meeting."

Sighing, she moved to help her. "Let's just hope the meeting goes smoothly. I don't want to spend too much time away from Ichabod, tonight."

Her friend glanced at her. "But you put him to sleep, don't you?"

"Yes," she replied. "But I hate doing that. It makes him groggy the next day and..."

"You don't like using your power on him without his knowledge," Mary finished.

Nodding, she leaned against the table, her eyes falling closed. "I want to tell him so badly."

"But you won't, right? Katrina, you know the law and you made an oath."

"I know," she whispered. "But it doesn't change anything. He and I are having a baby and I've witnessed firsthand what keeping this sort of secret does to a marriage."

"I know."

"My parents hated each other in the end, Mary."

_"Where are you going?"_

_"Out," her mother bit out._

_Her father moved to grasp her mother's arm. "Elizabeth..."_

_"Baltus, I told you not to touch me."_

_With a sigh, her father released his hold. "I simply don't understand why you need to venture out this late, especially not with it storming the way it is."_

_"I'm visiting my mother."_

_Shaking his head, her father shouted, "Don't lie to me, Elizabeth!"_

_The volume of her father's voice caused her to jump slightly, knocking into the table she was beneath, pulling both of their gazes._

_"Katrina," her mother whispered, making her way over. "Come here, sweetheart."_

_Crawling out from her hiding place, she moved into her mother's arms._

_"What are you doing out of bed?"_

_"I was scared of the storm."_

_Her mother frowned as she pushed some her from her face. "Were you? Well, that's not good," she said, lifting her up. "Let's go get you tucked back in."_

_"Elizabeth, we are not finished discussing this!"_

_Her mother's arms tightened around her as she spun to face him. "I'm not fighting with you in front of my daughter, Baltus."_

_His eyes narrowed. "Your daughter? Are you admitting to something, Elizabeth?"_

_Huffing, she turned to make her way up the stairs, but his hand caught her arm again. "You tell me right now. She's his, isn't she?"_

_"Let me go." When he didn't move, she jerked her arm from him. "You're drunk, Baltus. Go find somewhere to pass out and sleep off your ridiculous notions."_

_With that, her mother began carrying her up the stairs as the lightning flashed in the window caused her to jump._

_"Mama!"_

_"It's alright, Katrina."_

"It's alright, Katrina."

Jerking up, she found her breathing erratic.

Disoriented, she attempted to focus herself and discern where she was. The slight light of morning was making its way through the widow as the rain beat against it.

"My love?"

Quickly twisting to face him, she found her husband staring at her in concern.

"It's alright," he whispered, bringing a hand to her neck. "You're alright."

"I-what happened?"

"You were having a nightmare of some sort. I-" His words fell away.

"What?" she asked, sensing there was more.

"I think you were dreaming about your mother."

Releasing a shaky breath, she nodded. "I'm sorry, I woke you."

His hand wove into her hair as his free arm slid around her waist, his mouth brushing her ear with a gentle kiss. "It's alright."

As she leaned into his embrace, she sighed.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I don't know," she whispered into his neck. "I'm scared."

He pulled back from her with a frown, his fingers brushing through her hair. "Of what, my love?"

Eyes falling closed, she held back a sob. "Of you hating me."

It was her absolute deepest fear. The very thought had the ability to paralyze her.

His touch stilled on her.

"Look at me." When she didn't do as he asked, she felt his lips brush hers. "Please."

Hesitantly opening her eyes, she found him staring at her in concern. "Nothing in this world could ever make me hate you."

"You don't know that," she whispered, knowing he didn't know all of the details of her life.

"Why do you think that?" He slid his hand beneath her chin. "Because of your parents?"

Nodding, she admitted, "They hated each other."

"My love, we are nothing like your parents."

"How do you know that? How do you know we won't become like them someday?"

He chuckled as he wove his hand back into her hair. "Well, most importantly, because we weren't exactly forced into marriage with someone we didn't love." He raised an eyebrow. "Now, if you'd went through with that other engagement..." He paused. "Maybe you don't know everything about your parents. You were four when she died, Katrina."

"I know how old I was, Ichabod," she bit out, pulling from him.

"Please, don't pick a fight with me," he whispered.

Eyes flashing back to him, she heatedly replied, "I'm not."

"Yes, you are," he said, glancing to the storm outside their bedroom window. "You do this every time she's brought up."

Anger began to build within her. "I'm not doing anything!"

He brought a hand to his eyes and wiped at them tiredly, causing her to remember how groggy he usually became after she cast her sleeping spell over him. It must have finally worn off when he'd awoken to her dreaming.

"Perhaps we should just go back to sleep before we say something we regret," he whispered before laying down on his side with his back to her.

It was too late for her. She already regretted her anger toward him. All he'd done was try to comfort her. That was all he ever did.

Sighing, she scooted close to him, wrapping her arm around his middle as she pressed herself flush against his back.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, placing gentle kisses to his shoulder and neck.

He didn't respond.

With another sigh, she trailed her kisses to his ear. "I love you."

"I know."

His clipped reply left her worried.

Deciding to take a different avenue, she rested her head in the crook of his shoulder and neck.

"I was dreaming about the last time I ever saw her." At his silence, she continued, "It was storming outside, like it is tonight. I awoke and made my way downstairs because I was scared and I wanted my mother." She sucked in a deep breath. "But I found them fighting so I hid under the table. My father was drinking as usual and my mother was trying to leave to go visit my grandmother."

He shifted and turned over to face her. "In the middle of the night? During a storm?"

She shrugged, choosing not to address it as she knew from Alfred that her mother had actually been on her way to a coven meeting.

"Before she left, she found me and pulled me from beneath the table to return me to my room."

His hand slid to her neck. "Is that all?"

"No," she whispered. "My father said something that I-I've never mentioned to anyone."

Ichabod frowned. "What?"

With a deep breath, she finally uttered the words she'd never before allowed leave her. "He said...'she's his, isn't she?'"

"I don't understand. He asked her if you were someone else's?"

With a sigh, she answered, "I've always wondered if...what if that's the reason he doesn't love me? Because I'm not even his daughter."

He moved forward until his forehead was touching hers. "I'm so sorry, my love."

Sucking in a shaky breath, she whispered, "Ichabod...promise me you'll never stop loving me."

He smiled as his hand stroked along her face. "I promise, but..."

Worry filled her. "But?"

"Love isn't a good enough word to describe what I feel for you."

Her own smile appeared. "Are you trying to charm me into making love to you?"

His eyes fell to the sheet covering her naked form. "Always, my love."

Rolling her eyes, she leaned into him, more than willing to let him love her.


	5. Chapter 5

"Are you alright?"

Glancing up at her friend, she gave a small nod, "Yes, I'm just a little nauseous."

Mary nodded. "Oh, yes, baby Crane. I keep forgetting you have his little spawn growing inside of you."

With a chuckle, she sat on the bench and leaned back against the wall. "It would seem baby Crane is making mama Crane ill." After she finished with her words, she couldn't contain her smile.

"What?"

Shrugging, she resumed her hands place on her belly. "I'm going to be a mama."

Mary rolled her eyes before sitting beside her. "And I'm going to be an Auntie."

Eyebrows raising, she turned to her friend. "Are you, now?"

"Yes, indeed," she said with a steady nod. "I'm going to teach little Crane here just how to skillfully get under the skin of papa Crane."

"Ichabod will murder you," she replied with a light chuckle.

Mary laughed and stood back up. "I'd like to see him try." Holding out her hand, she pulled her to her feet. "Now, you go home and let Ichabod fuss over you. You're of no use here anyway."

"But Mary-"

"No, 'buts'," her friend cut in. "Go home."

With that, she pushed her toward the door.

* * *

><p>As she stepped through the front door of her home, she sighed. Her nausea had finally dissipated, but the desire to simply collapse into her bed with Ichabod beside her was in the forefront of her mind.<p>

But, first, she had to find him.

"Ichabod?"

When she received no answer, she felt disappointment creep over her, realizing he must have gone out. He'd said he might go visit about town.

With a sigh, she rounded the corner to the sitting room, but came up short, however, at finding him in the room. He was sitting on the sofa, his head in his hands.

"Ichabod?"

Worry filled her as she moved to sit next to him, resting her hand against his back.

"My love? What's wrong?"

Without a word, he fell into her, his head seeking out the place between her shoulder and neck as his arms came about her, a sob escaping him.

As she brought one arm around his back and the other to his face, she held him close as he clung to her almost desperately.

Uncertainty filled her as he hadn't been in this sort of state since he'd received his last letter from home.

_"Ms. van Tassel?"_

_Spinning around, she found Ichabod Crane standing in the doorway to the infirmary._

_"Mr. Crane."_

_"Forgive me," he said quickly. "I didn't mean to startle you."_

_"You didn't," she answered with a small smile. "Can I help you with something?"_

_He shifted nervously for a moment. "I was hoping you could offer me some advice."_

_With a nod, she gestured to the bench along the wall._

_Once he was seated beside her, she gave another small smile. "Is everything alright?"_

_It was quite obvious the man was deeply troubled about something._

_His face was a cloud of swirling emotion and when his eyes met hers, she had to force herself not to touch him at the sorrow she found in them._

_"I received a letter from home...from my father."_

_"Oh," she whispered, realizing where this was heading. "I take it, it wasn't a form of congratulations."_

_He shook his head as he produced the letter from his coat pocket. "He's disowned me, forsaken me as his son."_

_"I'm so sorry."_

_A shaky breath left him. "I-I don't know what to do. I don't have... anyone." He turned back to her. "Forgive me, I just...I know you don't know me and..."_

_She reached for his hand, sliding her own into his. "It's alright."_

_His breathing became ragged as his tears began to flow. "I feel as if I can't breathe." He brought his free hand up to rest on his knee as he propped his forehead in his palm. "I've always done everything he asked of me. My only desire my entire life has been to please him, to be him."_

_A slight dread began to fill her at the sensations this man was pulling from her. Every sense she possessed was tugging at her._

_She'd known the moment she met him that he possessed the power to consume her and had determined to herself to stay away from him, yet here he sat, his hand in hers, his body practically screaming at her to reach out and hold him._

_"Fathers have a way of doing that," she whispered, with a light squeeze to his hand. "Even when we wished they didn't. I don't believe that most of them know just how much of our hearts they hold in their hands, how both precious and detrimental their words can be to their children."_

_His eyes came back to her, searching."What do you do when faced with such a circumstance?"_

_The intensity behind his sea of blue was too much, forcing her to drop her own gaze to their hands. "I do the best that I can with the moments I am given." With a sigh, she glanced back to him. "I know this isn't the future you envisioned for yourself. I doubt it's one you are entirely sure of even now. But," she frowned in thought. "It is a future that you chose. We never truly know who we are until we're given the opportunity to make a choice without the advice of a parent."_

_His eyes fell. "And what of the feeling as though you're world has fallen in upon you and you can see no means of escape?"_

_The defeat in his voice was the straw that tore her walls down._

_"Look at me," she whispered, placing a hand to his cheek. When his eyes met hers, she continued, "I am your escape. I will help you in any way I can."_

_He shook his head. "I'm not your burden."_

_With a smile, she replied. "You're a good man, Ichabod Crane. I saw that in you the moment I laid eyes on you. I want to help you." She allowed her hand to fall to his neck. "It's alright to let it out."_

_It was as if he'd been waiting for her permission all along as he finally slumped against her._

_Resting her chin atop his head, she closed her eyes, knowing she'd just allowed him entrance into much more than the arms she had wrapped about him._

When his body finally calmed slightly from his shaking, she gently tugged at his head until she had her forehead resting against his.

"My love, please tell me what's wrong."

His ragged breaths were hitting her forcefully as he attempted to speak.

"My-" he shook his head. "My mother's dead."

Frowning, she leaned away from him to catch his eyes. "How do you know that?"

Another tormented sob left him. "My father. He said-he said it's my fault."

As she slid a hand across his cheek to rid him of his tears, her frown deepened. "Your father? How-"

His eyes darted to a letter on the table.

Reaching for it, she brought it forth to read before catching his eyes to ask for permission.

When he gave a small nod, her eyes fell to the letter.

Everything his father could have said to hurt his son, he had said. Apparently, after Ichabod had defected, his mother had taken to her room, mourning for her only son. She'd fallen into a deep state of depression and had been deteriorating over the past few years as no new news of her son had reached her ears.

His father went on to place full blame for her death upon Ichabod, his greatest failure. The man actually wrote that his son was the black mark upon the name of Crane and now he was the murderer of his own mother.

"I killed my mother," he whispered.

Her eyes darted back to his to find him avoiding her gaze.

"Your father is a fool, Ichabod." Still, he wouldn't look at her, forcing her to slide her hand to his cheek to turn his face to her. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"But-"

"No," she cut him off. "No." Taking both sides of the letter, she ripped it down the middle. "This is filth and I demand you rid it from your mind."

"I can't," he whispered with a shake of his head. "I promised her, Katrina. I promised her she would see me again, that I would return to her."

"Ichabod-"

"_No_!" he shouted, abruptly standing to his feet. "I killed her." He began pacing. "She loved me, trusted me, and I took her life from her." His eyes settled upon the floor. "I-"

His words fell away again as he began breathing heavily, his eyes darting about wildly.

Unable to take his pain anymore, she stood and made her way to stand in front of him, but instead of meeting her eyes, he slammed his tightly shut.

Gently cupping his face, she leaned up and brushed her lips over his.

"You are everything to me."

"Katrina..."

"You are my very soul, Ichabod Crane, and I would not give my soul to a murderer."

His eyes cracked open, allowing his tears to leak down his cheeks. "I don't deserve you."

With a small smile, she slid her hands down his arms before tangling their fingers together. "Perhaps not, but you have me anyway."

He rested his forehead against hers.

"I am so sorry, my love. I know how much you loved her."

A heavy breath left him. "I just want to stop thinking about it. I can't get his words out my mind."

Tightening her fingers in his, she whispered, "Take me upstairs and let me make love to you."

He pulled back with a frown. "I don't want to use you in that way."

With a shake of her head, she leaned up to once more brush her lips over his. "Take me upstairs and let me help you."

When he didn't move, she pulled back and began tugging him toward the staircase.

He resisted at first, but not nearly enough to stop her in her goal to alleviate some of his pain.

Upon reaching their bed, she turned back to him as she sat upon its edge.

For a moment, he simply stared at her before, without warning, he fell to his knees in front of her, laying his head in her lap as his arms wrapped about her body.

"I love you," came his muffled declaration.

Resting her hands in his hair, she whispered, "I love you, too."

A silence passed over them before he spoke again. "Katrina?"

"Yes, my love?"

He lifted his head. "Will you just hold me?"

A bit speechless at his request, she nodded before laying back on the bed as he crawled over her.

As he adjusted himself half on top of her, he burrowed his head in the crook of her neck as she wrapped her arms around him.

"When I was a small boy, she used to hold me like this."

"Did she?" she asked, stroking his back.

"I was always scared to fall asleep alone at night. My friend's would tell me stories that would inspire my imagination to work overtime."

She quietly chuckled. "I would love to have known you then. I bet you were adorable." Kissing the top of his head, she added, "My little thinker."

"You'd have no doubt kept me in trouble."

"Most likely," she answered with a smile.

The unsteady rise and fall of his chest pressed into her, letting her know he was still struggling.

"I had a wonderful childhood. My mother doted upon me while my father...I was his pride and joy." After a moment, he whispered, "I want to be a good father."

"You will be," she assured him, weaving her fingers through his hair.

"Do you think our baby will love me?"

Frowning, she paused in her movements, wishing she could see his face. "Of course, it will. It will adore you just as I do."

He turned his face further into her neck, his warm breath heating her skin. "I adore you."

Eyes sliding closed, she whispered, "I know."

"I don't ever want to be parted from you."

Unable to take anymore, she maneuvered herself to lie on her side so she could face him.

His eyes were red and swollen, his breathing still unsteady.

Sliding her hand along his cheek, she whispered, "Nothing can part us. We are bound in every way we can be, my love."

He moved closer to her, their bodies now flush, his arms sliding around her waist to hold her to him.

"I-" His eyes darted over her face. "I feel like I can't get close enough to you. I want to be closer."

Slightly confused, she asked, "Do you want to make love?"

"No," he whispered. "I just...Katrina, I- don't know what I want. I'm lost."

Unsure how to respond, she whispered, "I'll do anything you ask of me, my love. Tell me what to do."

"I don't know, Katrina," he answered desperately. "I'm so tired of it all. I just want to stay here with you."

"I wish with everything within me that we could."

His fingers dug into her back as his eyes fell closed. "Please..."

She had absolutely no idea of what to do.

"Ichabod, this war won't last forever. There'll come a day where we'll be together so much we'll grow tired of each other."

His eyes opened. "I'll never grow tired of you."

Producing a smile for him, she brushed her lips over his. "I suppose we will have this baby to distract us."

A smile finally creased his face as his gaze fell to her belly. "And all the ones to come."

With a chuckle, she raised an eyebrow. "All the one's to come? Just how many are you planning to put in me?"

"As many as you'll allow."

His eyes were so sincere as he stroked the place their child resided.

"I suppose I'll remain pregnant forever, then."

His mouth twitched at the side. "It's unfathomable how you can love someone so much and you've yet to even meet." He frowned. "I can't imagine our child doing anything to cause my love to falter."

"Your father loves you, Ichabod," she whispered, caressing his cheek. "Perhaps, he's just lost as well. Some people lack the ability to see beyond what they want."

"That's not a very good excuse."

"No, it's not," she agreed.

"He forced me to come here, despite my wish not to."

With a smile, she slid her thumb over his mouth. "You must remind me to write him a letter of thanks for his thoughtfulness. Our child and I appreciate it very much."

His eyes found hers. "I love you."

Shifting her forehead to lean against his, she whispered, "Show me."

Those words were all it took for his hands to find the buttons along the front of her dress.

It always took her by surprise how much care he put into undressing her. There were times he acted as though any rushed movement or coarse action would break her into a thousand pieces.

Of course, they had their moments of pure lust and raw passion, but these moments, the ones where he took his time simply caressing her, loving her, were the ones she treasured the most.

By the time his body was gently moving within hers, his love had consumed her completely.

"I'm going to miss you."

Bringing her hand to caress his face, she whispered, "We'll write every day, just as we always do."

His head rested against hers, his heavy breaths washing over her face as he continued in his gently movements. "It's not the same."

"I know."

"I want to be here with you as our child grows. I want to help you."

With a sigh, she wove her fingers through his hair. "You'll return before it's born."

"No," he whispered, catching her eyes. "I want to be here for you, while you're ill and...we made this baby together. You shouldn't be the only one to suffer."

"Ichabod...I'm only a few months along. There is still plenty of time."

"Katrina-"

"No," she whispered, reaching for his hand and threading their fingers together. "Stop worrying about tomorrow. Be with me right now."

His eyes danced over her face for a moment before his mouth descended to hers.

The tenderness with which he moved in and out of her combined with his gentle kiss had her lower body simmering in its slow build.

"I love when we do this," she breathed into him.

"Make love?"

"When we don't rush. We just...take our time."

A small smile crept over his face. "I do as well, my love."

Once again, his mouth found hers, his tongue teasing her lips into parting for him. The playful caress of it against hers had her toes curling as she slid a leg up and down his.

"Promise me we'll always love like this," he whispered as his lips ghosted along her jaw.

Tightening her grip in his hair, she turned into him, following his mouth's path. "Always."

When she caught his lips, she pulled his head into her as her other hand slid between his arm and side to dig into his back, needing him closer to her.

His movements began to pick up pace as his fingers gripped her thigh, dragging it further up his side.

When he came undone in her arms, she continued her stroking of his back as he clung to her tightly, his head burrowing in her neck.

Turning her head into him, she caressed his cheek with chaste kisses. "You are so loved, Ichabod Crane."

The small jerk of his body in a sob was quickly followed by his tears wetting her skin.

"Let it out, my love," she whispered.

"Katrina..."

"I'm here," she answered softly. "Just let it out."

Wrapping her arms around him, she continued whispering to him, resolute in her mission to be whatever her husband needed.

* * *

><p><strong>By the way, I failed to mention before that Ichabod isn't the Witness in this story. He's just a regular ole fella. Anyway, hope this chapter was enjoyable despite it's depressing nature:)<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

"Why can't we just stay home tonight?"

She turned her back to him as she finished the laces on her dress. "Mary's expecting us to be there. I promised her."

He stalked toward her and threw his hands up. "It's my last night home, Katrina. Who knows how long I'll be gone this time?"

With a sigh, she nodded. "I'm aware of that, but-"

"No," he cut in. "I want to stay home."

So did she, but as half of her coven would be in attendance at the party tonight, she needed to be there. They were monitoring a suspect new arrival into town that could quite possibly lead them to the leader of the other coven moving in on Sleepy Hollow and her presence was a must.

They'd been locked in their house for two days as he grieved for his mother, but she didn't have a choice now.

Turning to him, she reached for his hands, but he stepped back, his jaw clenched.

This was another thing they'd been doing for the past two days. His emotions had been all over the place, ranging from sobbing to full out anger. Each result ending in them tangled in each other in some way or another, whether it be from gentle lovemaking or the roughest forms of sex they'd had to date.

It would seem tonight was heading in the direction of the latter of his emotions. If it weren't for the fact that she couldn't give her coven any more ammunition to consider her as weak, she would let him continue to bury his anger and sadness in her, but tonight, her allowing that was impossible.

"My love, we won't stay long, I promise. We'll go and come home, and then we can do whatever you want."

He shook his head. "I'm not going and neither are you."

Eyes narrowing, she answered, "I don't take orders from you, Ichabod."

"But I take them from you, don't I?" he bit out heatedly. "Everything we do is your decision."

"That's not true."

"Tell me," he said, his voice raising. "Tell me one time that we've disagreed about something and you've given in to _my_ side of things."

At a loss for words, her eyes fell to his boots.

"Exactly, Katrina. You control everything. You act as though I have no opinion at all."

A knock echoed at the door, pulling her gaze.

"That's Mary," she clarified at his confused look before turning to the door.

He grabbed her arm. "Tell her we're not going."

She spun back to him, her anger surfacing. "I am not telling her that! What you do is your decision, Ichabod, but I'm going."

When she moved to turn back to the door again, his next words stopped her in her tracks.

"If you go, I won't be here when you return."

Her eyes fell closed as she attempted to ignore the pain that shot through her.

"That's your decision as well," she whispered with her back to him.

Resuming her journey to the door, she exited through it without a glance back.

* * *

><p>"He'll be there, Katrina."<p>

Glancing about the crowd of people in the square, she shook her head. "No, he won't. He's so stubborn. He'll leave just to prove a point."

"Well, then, he's an idiot."

At her friend's frustrated voice, she couldn't help but smile.

"Mrs. Crane."

Turning to her right, she found Alfred coming to a stop beside her.

"Reverend Knapp."

"Has anything garnered your attention tonight?"

In other words, had she noticed anything out of the ordinary.

"Not yet, unfortunately. It would seem this party is fairly controlled."

Alfred gave a nod. "Hmm." He glanced about. "Has Mr. Crane already departed for his camp?"

With a sigh, she shook her head. "I'm not sure."

He raised an eyebrow. "You're not sure?"

Alfred's concern was evident. He'd always been a sort of father figure to her in her youth. In the absence of an actual father who cared, he'd been a welcome reprieve to her lonely existence. Between he and Mary, she'd been showered with love, but that had been all the love she'd ever received.

In the years following her mother's death at the hands of a demon, Alfred had taken over her training.

_"Katrina?"_

_Glancing up from her place in front of her mother's grave where she was huddled in the pouring rain, she found Reverend Knapp approaching._

_"What on earth are you doing out here? Come, let's get you inside."_

_She shook her head, the tendrils of her red hair sticking to her face. "No, I'm staying with my mother."_

_The man's arms came about her and lifted her up. "Your mother's not here, Katrina."_

_As she clung to the man, he carried her up the hill and into the church._

_Sitting her down on one of the pews, he disappeared for a moment before reappearing with a thick blanket._

_"Now," he said, drawing the blanket about her. "Tell me what you were doing out there."_

_Sucking in a ragged breath, she whispered, "I want her to come home."_

_The man's eyes softened. "I know."_

_"Why did she have to leave me?"_

_He glanced down to his hands. "Your mother was the bravest woman I've ever known." His eyes came back to her. "She loved you more than anything and would never have willingly left you."_

_"She left me with him."_

_Alfred reached for her hands, taking them in his own. "Is your father drinking again?"_

_Nodding, her eyes fell to her hands. "He hates me."_

_"No, little one, he doesn't."_

_She jerked her eyes up. "Yes, he does. He married that evil woman and now all he cares about is her. He won't even talk to me and when he does, he only yells."_

_Alfred sighed. "I know you don't understand, but...Katrina, your father loves you dearly, just as he loved your mother."_

_"No, he doesn't!" she screamed, jumping up and jerking her hand from him._

_The pew in front of her went skidding across the floor, bumping into the one in front of it and knocking over one of the candle stands._

_Terrified that she was about to be yelled at, she quickly shrunk back. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."_

_Alfred gently shook his head. "It's alright, Katrina."_

_"I can't control it," she whispered. "I'm scared my father's going to make me angry and I'll hurt him."_

_"I understand," he replied with a nod. "We'll get your gifts under control, Katrina, I promise."_

And he'd kept his promise. He'd worked with her every day as Mary's mother would bring her and Mary to the tunnels and allow Alfred reign of their training.

Out of all of her coven members, even Mary, he'd been the only one to actually congratulate her on her marriage to Ichabod.

"Katrina, look."

Following Mary's nod, she noticed a man across the street moving steadily through the crowd.

The sensation she got when her eyes fell on him sent a cold feeling through her.

"Mary, find Sarah. Tell her to meet us in the tunnels."

As Mary calmly began walking away, she turned to Alfred, never taking her eyes from the man. "Follow him."

With a nod, Alfred crossed the street.

Turning, she began to walk parallel to the man, maintaining a pleasant smile on her face as she passed various people.

He stopped and glanced her way, forcing her to distract herself.

Touching Mrs. Lewis' arm, she spoke, "Those pies smell delicious, Mrs. Lewis."

The woman smiled brightly. "Oh, thank you, Katrina."

"I'll be sure to sample some when I have a moment."

The man began to move again and she excused herself to begin following, but was stopped by a hand slipping into hers.

Quickly turning, she felt her heart stop.

"Ichabod."

He had an apologetic expression on his face. "I'm sorry."

Torn, she glanced back across the street to see the man farther down now, about to disappear from her sight.

"Katrina?"

Turning back to him, she took in his confused features and could see only one way to escape a conversation with him.

"I thought you were leaving," she bit out in half-hearted anger.

His face dropped even further. "I was wrong to say that. I'm so sorry, my love. I just..."

She shook her head, shoving down the feeling of her heart in her throat. "This is the reason I never cave to your side. I know you're too weak to stand up to me." At his startled expression, she pulled from him and said with as much disdain as she could conjure, "You should go."

With that, she turned from him and began walking, clenching her jaw to keep her tears from coming. Her matters with Ichabod had to wait.

Catching sight of Alfred's back as he rounded the corner, she sucked in a breath as she quickly crossed the street and slipped into the alley between the stables to cut them off.

When she reached the end, she glanced around the corner and frowned when she saw no one approaching.

Then, to her complete shock, hands grasped her, pulling her and shoving her against the wall, causing pain to shoot down her spine.

"Are you following me?"

After shoving her surprise down, she attempted to jerk her arm from him, but he had her firmly pinned to the wall.

Suddenly, he flew from her, hitting the building behind him.

"Katrina, are you alright?"

Alfred's hands pulled her up.

"I'm fine," she whispered. "Secure him."

As Alfred whispered a spell, the man cried out as his arm snapped backwards.

"Get up," Alfred bit out, jerking him to his feet.

When she'd regained herself, she limped out of the alley and glanced about before nodding to Alfred.

He began tugging the man forward, pulling him into the open toward the Post next to them.

Shoving the door open, she led the way to the storage room in the back before waving her hand to shove the heavy printer off of the trap door and lifting it open.

"Get him down there," she bit out as she leaned against the printer, the pain of her earlier shove nearly overwhelming her.

Alfred dropped the man in the opening before glancing at her. "Are you sure you're fine?"

"Alfred," she breathed. "Go."

After a moment's hesitation, he nodded and descended.

With a deep breath, she forced herself to follow.

* * *

><p>Upon reaching the others, Mary rushed forward as Alfred slung the man to the ground, earning a muffled scream from the man. "Are you alright?"<p>

"I'm fine, Mary," she whispered through her teeth.

To allow the others to see her pain would not bode well for her.

Isa, one of the Four, stepped forward. "What took you so long?"

She fixed the woman with a glare. "I lost track of him for a moment."

"Why?"

From the woman's tone, she felt she already knew. "Someone began to speak to me and I had to excuse myself."

"You mean, your husband?"

Clenching her jaw, she rose to her full height, despite her blinding pain. "We captured him, how and when do not matter." She turned to Alfred. "Now, pick him up."

Once the man was standing before her, she jerked her hand and the gag fell from his mouth as he stumbled to his knees in front of her.

"Where are they?"

The man smirked. "I'll tell you nothing."

She had neither the time nor patience for the dance of interrogation.

Reaching forth, she gripped his shoulder, digging her fingers in. His subsequent scream as his shoulder popped out of place echoed throughout the tunnel.

"You're unnecessary, a means to an end. We'll find the others with or without you." She leaned close. "Your cooperation, however, will determine the next action taken against you." Dropping her hand to his fingers, she began to bend them back. "Well..?"

"I won't betray her."

"Her?" she asked, eyebrows raised. "Tell me, would your leader die for you as you are so obviously willing to die for her?" Stepping back, she fixed him with a look of disgust. "She's not looking out for you or her coven as she makes her way through the colonies, wreaking havoc. If she continues in this manner, she'll not only reveal herself, but magic itself. She'll get us all burned."

An almost inhuman smile crossed his face. "Burning is her specialty. There's nothing quite like the burnt flesh of a child. Perhaps yours will be next."

Clenching her jaw, she reached forward and snapped his fingers back.

"Where are they!?"

"Katrina..."

Her eyes jerked to Alfred. "Do _not_ interrupt me."

Her emotions were already teetering with Ichabod's imminent departure and her injuries coursing through her, but for the vile man before her to threaten her child was the last straw.

His chuckle drew her gaze back to him. "She's going to kill all of you."

He wasn't going to give them anything.

Glancing up to Alfred, she stood straighter. "Take care of him. Mary, come with me."

With that, she turned and did her best not to limp from the tunnel.

Once they were outside, she finally allowed herself to lean against a tree.

"Katrina."

"I think one of my ribs is broken," she whispered.

Mary laid a hand over her ribs. "Why didn't you say anything sooner?"

"Because I won't allow them to see me weak. They already suspect I am because I married Ichabod."

"Katrina, no one thinks you're weak."

"Mary," she whispered, glancing up at her friend. "Please, read me."

"What, why?"

"My baby..."

With a nod, Mary quickly grabbed her hands and closed her eyes.

When she took longer than needed to respond, her worry increased. "Mary?"

Her friend's eyes opened. "Your baby's fine, Katrina."

Breathing a sigh of relief, she nodded. "Thank you."

"Alright, now let's get you healed so you can go home to Mr. Crane."

As Mary set about healing her, she shook her head. "He found me in the square. I told him to leave."

Mary glanced up at her. "Why would you do that?"

Hand rubbing at her eyes, she shrugged. "I was about to lose the target and...he was a distraction." With a sigh, she shook her head. "Mary, I told him he was weak. I purposefully hurt him."

For a moment, her friend was silent. "You know, you two are really something. One moment, you can't stop touching. The next, you're arguing." She looked up at her again. "It's nerve racking." Her friend sighed. "Besides, like you said before, he's stubborn. I'm sure he's sitting in your house somewhere pouting."

Despite her pain and worry, she couldn't help but smile. Her friend always could make her smile in the worst of times.

* * *

><p>It would seem that for once, Mary had been wrong.<p>

Upon searching her house, she found that her husband was, in fact, gone. His gear and coat were missing as well as his weapons.

Dejectedly sinking to the bottom step of her staircase, she finally allowed her tears to flow.

Despite his threats and her words, she hadn't expected him to actually leave, not when the possibility of his departure being the last one he ever had was known to them both.

They never fought, not really. He would make idle threats and she would give him the cold shoulder, but it never lasted long. Their inability to keep away from each other was usually the main cause of their rekindling.

But to think that he'd actually left her with such tension between them was too overwhelming.

Resting her head in her hands, she released the sob she'd been attempting to contain all night.

However, the door opening prompted her to glance up.

He was standing in the door way, his bag slung over his shoulder, his jaw clenched.

"Ichabod-"

"You don't get to tell me to leave."

Nodding, she whispered, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it."

His bag dropped to the floor as he began stalking toward her, a determined expression on his face. When he reached her, he ripped his hat from his head before falling to his knees in front of her. His hands immediately found her neck as his lips crashed into hers.

After a moment of his rough kiss, he pulled back, his warm breath washing over her. "We make decisions together, Katrina."

With a quick nod, she whispered, "I swear."

His hands slid to her waist, pulling her lower body to wrap around his. "Now, are you finished gallivanting about town when you should be here making love to me?"

Breath hitching at the desire in his eyes, she slid her arms around his neck as she nodded.

"No," he objected, his fingers gripping her waist, pulling her firmly into him. "Tell me you're mine to do with as I will this night."

"I'm yours," she whispered. "I'm always yours, my love."

With that assurance, he lifted her up to begin journeying up the stairs.


	7. Chapter 7

"Mrs. Crane!"

At her name, she turned to find Caleb Wes, a young messenger, running toward her.

Upon his reaching her, she laid a hand to his arm to stop him from toppling right over her.

"Is everything alright, Mr. Wes?" she asked with a light laugh.

After his breath was finally caught, he spoke, "I have a letter for you."

"Thank you," she said, giving the boy a bright smile before he hurriedly departed to his next destination.

Glancing to the letter, she felt her smile brighten even further at his familiar script. It'd been three months since he'd returned to his duties and every day felt as though it passed slower in his absence.

Letter open, she began trailing her eyes along his words of love and desperation to be in her presence again.

As she reached the details of his regiments status, confusion, followed by dread, began to fill her.

By the time she reached its conclusion, she was practically running to the church.

* * *

><p>"What are we to do? She's wreaking havoc to our cause."<p>

With a sigh, she turned to Alfred. "We'll weaken her, make her susceptible to mortal capture."

"You suggest we hand her over to the people?" he asked incredulously.

"It's better than starting a war with her coven. If they learn of our hand in her capture, our efforts will become even more complicated."

Alfred fixed her with a questioning gaze. "Are you sure Ichabod told you everything?"

Returning the Reverend's questioning gaze with a stern one, she answered, "Ichabod trusts me explicitly. He holds nothing back when he writes." Eyes falling closed, she sighed with regret. "He wouldn't keep anything from me."

Her secret was a constant source of worry in her life. For Ichabod to learn of it would be detrimental to the both of them.

The law in her coven was very strict on matters concerning their craft. Only in the most dire of circumstances were they allowed to revel their power and, even then, the person with the acquired knowledge may still be subject to scrutiny.

Engagements were observed carefully by the coven before they were allowed to come to fruition. It was an ancient rule, but a rule none the less. The coven's priority was to protect its secret at all cost. The way in which they did that was to only give consent to marriages of arrangement, making matters concerning their secret's reveal less likely to occur. To reveal one's power to a non-magical spouse would result in not only the death of the spouse, but in the witch or warlock as well. It was a strict rule that had rarely been enforced as, to the coven's knowledge, only few instances in their history had they actually had to address such a betrayal.

This wasn't to say reveals had not taken place in secret. She doubted very much that every member of her coven's history had kept their secret from their loved ones. Those members had obviously garnered their spouse's agreement to keep the secret of their secret. She could imagine how difficult that must have been for anyone who took such a risk.

The rule, though seemingly outrageous, did have its purpose. It kept the coven safe, for not all declarations of love were true. There was record of one young witch who'd gone against her coven's law. The girl had thought herself in love and thus shared her secret with her significant other. The result had been disastrous. Not only had the girl lost her life due to her false love's betrayal, but so had half a dozen of her fellow coven members. This was why the rule remained. Because just as that young witch had learned, not only did she fall at the hands of her reveal, but so had many of her contemporaries.

The rule was an insurance measure to protect them all.

She, herself, had never really questioned the rule. Love had always been irrelevant to her. She'd lacked it in her home life and she'd resigned herself to lacking it in her married life. Even though she'd known from their very first meeting that she'd never love Abraham, the positive ruling of her coven to her engagement had solidified that assumption. All of that had changed, however, when she'd met Ichabod. He'd arrived and immediately changed her life. For the first time, she'd known what it was to give and receive love.

Upon her marriage to Ichabod, her coven had been outraged. Many of them had demanded punishment, but, in the end, she had agreed to take an oath to never reveal her secret under penalty of death. The Four Who Speak As One were tasked with the charge of ensuring everyone abided by the law and were to report any lawbreakers to the coven's leader immediately. As she was that leader, her marriage to Ichabod had caused quite the uprising amongst her constituents.

The Four had protested vehemently to allowing her to remain in power, but the remainder of her coven had agreed to her signing of the oath. If any suspicion were to arise concerning her leadership, Alfred was to have the final word.

Despite her agreement to the oath, she had been unsure of her secret concerning Ichabod in the first place. Her husband was fierce in matters concerning her, not to mention how she could almost imagine his response to her constant presence amongst dangerous situations. His overprotective nature concerning her would no doubt drive the both of them mad. So, in the end, she'd sworn to both her coven and herself that she'd never allow him knowledge of her secret life. It tore her apart to do so, but she truly believed it was for the best.

"Well, if you think this our best option, I will contact the rest of the coven. When shall we meet?"

"Every moment we delay risks more lives. Speed is of the essence."

* * *

><p>"Are you sure this will work?"<p>

Throwing a scathing gaze to Jer, one of the Four, she answered, "Are you questioning my skill, Jer?"

The woman stood tall in the face of her. "I'm simply concerned. If this doesn't work, Serilda will continue her rampage, most likely turning her efforts upon us."

"Our duty is to protect the lives of the innocent. As your leader, I am making this decision and my decision stands."

Jer didn't move.

"Was there something else you cared to relay?"

She looked to the others before resuming her stare. "A few of us are concerned that your ability to make decisions may be compromised."

Mary quickly stepped forward. "A few of you? More like the four of you."

"Mary..." she warned lowly, to which her friend huffed and stepped back. Glancing to the others from beneath her hood, she questioned, "A few of you?" She met each of the Four's eyes. "Well, to the few of you, I assure you, my abilities are perfectly fine."

Jer gestured to her. "And your emotions? Are they perfectly fine as well?"

"Being with child has not compromised me," she bit out.

"But your feelings for your husband have. I believe your concern for his safety is clouding your judgment."

Clenching her jaw, Katrina threw her hood back and stepped forward. "Do not begin to use my husband as an excuse in an attempt to usurp me, Jer. My abilities are fine, my judgment is fine, and my emotions, while teetering on annoyance, are perfectly _fine_."

The Four were constantly attempting to search out a way to unseat her as their leader. Upon her coming of age, she'd inherited her mother's vacated spot as leader of the coven. It was a task passed down through her bloodline. Her ancestors had always been leaders and that had often caused friction amongst she and the Four. As her mother had passed when she was too young to take her place immediately, her mother's second, Alfred, had taken charge until she reached the age of maturity. Even when she'd reached the proper age, the Four still objected, stating she was too wild and unpredictable. They thought her lack of control in her home environment had made her unfit for the task. Alfred had overruled their objections, stating that he'd been training her since she'd come into her powers and that she was perfectly capable of leading them. That ruling from him still did not sit well with the Four and from the time she'd taken reign of her inherited place in the coven, they'd never ceased in their quest to ruin her.

Stepping back into position, she cast a last glance about. "Now, if there are no further objections, let us begin."

* * *

><p>"Mrs. Crane, how are you this evening?"<p>

Giving the elderly man a small smile, Katrina answered, "Oh, I'm wonderful. And you?"

"Quite well, quite well."

"And your wife? How is she?"

He smiled. "Oh, she's thrilled this morning. The grandchildren are with her."

"I'm sure she is." Pausing a moment, she glanced to the door. "I'm here to see the prisoner."

The man hesitated. "I'm not supposed to allow any-"

"Gregory, must we really go through this again?"

On numerous occasions throughout the years, she had visited to either question or help the different men and women held under guard. Gregory Bartley had been the jail's guard since its establishment and he never failed to dance around allowing her in.

"Mrs. Crane, this is a different circumstance. The woman being held is a witch. She's very dangerous."

"I'll be perfectly fine, Gregory. Even witches need medical attention and, from what I hear, this one was on the receiving end of some rather overzealous behavior from the men who captured her."

Sighing, he stepped aside and opened the door. "If anyone asks, this never happened."

She nodded in understanding before entering.

Her target was in the last cell, bound and pacing, most likely in an attempt to find an escape.

When she reached the cell, the woman turned with a glare.

"You!"

Serilda gripped the bars to reach out toward her, but she sidestepped her outstretched hands.

"Your coven, where are they?"

The woman spat. "You're a disgrace to your gifts. All the things you could do with them and you choose to provide safety for mortals."

"Your coven..._now_," she bit out. "Give me their location and I'll ensure you burn quickly." Stepping close, she fixed her with a telling glare. "Refuse and I'll make sure you suffer with the accumulative pain of all the innocents you've slaughtered."

For a moment, she saw a slight fear flash in the woman's dark eyes, then those same dark eyes fell to her belly.

"You're with child."

The urge to protect her baby filled her as she took a step back, her hand coming protectively to her child. "Last chance, Serilda."

Serilda leaned against the bars. "It's half mortal, isn't it? You mixed your blood with a filthy, mortal."

Nothing was going to come of this and she refused to allow this monster remain so near to her child.

Turning to leave, Serilda's next words turned her blood to ice. "It will die...along with your precious lover, Ichabod Crane."

Slowly, she returned her gaze to the smirking woman.

"I'm sure you thought you were very clever, marrying him so quickly. I must give you credit, Katrina, it was a very intelligent move on your part, especially knowing your coven would not approve of it." Serilda cast another glance to her belly. "I doubt your coven is happy with your decision to have a child with him. It's quite amazing how quickly a magical child can tear apart a marriage." Her eyes came back to bore into her own. "Though, I can see why you did it. He's quite handsome. I'd let him have his way with me in a heartbeat."

"How do you know who he is?" she whispered, her anger simmering just below the surface.

Serilda shrugged. "I can smell the stench of your entangled hearts from here. His was the same when I spotted him on the battlefield."

Finished with this, she once more turned to leave.

"Enjoy what precious time you have left, Katrina. Soon enough, I won't be the only one awaiting death. Your happiness will come to an end, just as your mother's did."

Rage consumed her as she flung an arm, slinging Serilda to the roof, then against the wall.

The door to the jail flew open as Gregory rushed in, coming to a stop at her side.

"Are you alright, Mrs. Crane?"

His gaze was planted on Serilda as she pushed herself from the ground, a blood filled smile on her lips.

"I'm fine, Gregory," she whispered. "Let us leave this woman to her just fate."

As the two of them made to exit, she cast Serilda a last glare to find her still smiling, the sight sending a wave of fear through her as she laid a hand to her belly.

"Remember my words, Katrina Crane. Your time will come."

With that, the door slammed shut.


	8. Chapter 8

As the last note of the old hymn echoed throughout the crowded square, she smiled, watching the small children escape their parents to run to the flames of the large bonfire in the center. They'd been adorable to watch as they all stood as patiently as possible while the song endured, their little bodies twisting in anticipation for the moment the music would end. The idea that it wouldn't be long until she had her own little one running about filled her with inexplicable joy as she brought a hand to her belly, the little one she held inside doing its own twisting and turning.

With a sigh, she diverted her gaze to observe the activities of the various townspeople. The harvest festival had brought out quite the crowd. Laughter and music filled the square as everyone hustled about in merriment.

She'd spotted her father and step-mother across the way earlier, but had expertly avoided them. It had been over four months since their disagreement and her father was still put out with her. At the moment, she had no plans to reconcile with him without an apology, one she was sure she'd never receive.

The whole thing was so childish. He'd even liked Ichabod at first, had enjoyed his ideas and company. That, however, had been before he'd found out what the two of them had done. Since then, though, it had been as if a completely different person had taken him over. He acted almost desperate to see her leave Ichabod, which left her more confused than angry. The man had always been an odd sort of spirit.

So lost in her thoughts, she nearly jumped out of her skin when hands slid around her waist.

Quickly spinning around to berate whoever had dared to touch her in such a way, she froze, sure she was a having a hallucination.

"Ichabod."

The bright smile plastered across his face assured her he was quite real.

"Hello, my love."

Time was precious and she wasted none of it as she threw herself into his arms, allowing for the smell of trees, earth, and gun powder to invade her senses. It had been four months since she'd last seen him and they had not been kind. Every day that passed had brought more longing for his presence, for his touch.

"I can't believe you're here," she whispered, her hands gripping his coat.

His warm breath washed over her neck. "Neither can I, my love."

Reluctantly, she pulled back from him just enough to find his eyes. "How? Your last letter said you foresaw no possible way to return home."

He shook his head, his hand sliding to her neck. "I was quite fortunate. The General was in need of a messenger to Sleepy Hollow. He thought I might like to deliver it."

Tears began building behind her eyes, prompting a worried expression to fill his features. "Katrina? My love, please don't cry."

Rolling her eyes, she wiped at the blasted tears. "I'm sorry. I've been so out of sorts lately. The baby's testing my sanity."

At her words, his eyes fell to her swollen belly, an odd expression crossing his face.

"Ichabod? Are you alright?"

Eyes shooting back to hers, he noticeably swallowed. "We're-we're having a baby."

Confused, she slowly nodded. "Yes...we are." Chuckling, she tilted her head. "Did I imagine informing you of this? I could have sworn I did."

Now, he was the one rolling his eyes. "Very funny."

One of his hands came to rest against the place their child occupied. "I just...the last time I saw you, you were..."

"Not a huge cow?" she finished, slightly self-consciously.

His hands tugged at her until she was pressed flush against him, his mouth unexpectantly seeking hers.

As his lips tenderly brushed over hers, she sighed into him. This was everything. All her hopes. All her dreams. All her fears. They all resided in him.

"You are so beautiful, my love."

It was the way he said it, as if there could be no other way, that prompted her to lean back in order to catch his eyes. What she found in those orbs of blue filled her with a profound sense of happiness.

Innocence. Purity. Love.

They were all there.

"You really mean that, don't you?"

A warm smile graced his face. "With all my heart."

Feeling her breathing begin to pick up pace, she leaned back into him, but their moment was suddenly cut short when a loud shot rang out in the square, followed by a roar of laughter from some nearby drunken men.

She chuckled at Ichabod's wide eyes. "Did your life just flash before your eyes?"

"Very much so," he answered, with his own chuckle.

Once he had regained his bearings, she slid her hand down to his.

"That shell-shocked expression of yours reminds me of the first time I kissed you, the utter horror of it all."

"You kissed me? I don't think so," he denied, with a shake of his head.

Her eyes widened. "I absolutely did!"

_Bored to pieces at Abraham's incessant rambling, she allowed her gaze to wander about the room in an attempt to find a reason to disengage herself from his conversation with her and his father. She'd take a conversation with just about anyone else at the moment._

_Delight filled her at spotting her target across the room._

_Turning back to the conversations before her, she smiled apologetically. "I'm so sorry, but if you'll excuse me?"_

_A disapproving frown crossed Abraham's face, but he nodded anyway. "Of course."_

_With a last polite smile, she began making her way through the different guests spread throughout the room, doing her best not to choke on the thick perfumes that greeted her with every elderly woman she passed._

_"Mr. Crane."_

_At her voice, he spun around, his eyes widening at the sight of her before a bright smile came to his face._

_"Ms. van Tassel," he replied, with a slight bow of his head._

_Rolling her eyes at his formal address, she chuckled. It was a running joke with them to always speak formally upon greeting as it had taken nearly a year for her to finally convince him to begin calling her by her first name._

_"I didn't realize you had returned to Sleepy Hollow."_

_He smiled. "Yes, this morning."_

_Nodding, she glanced to Abraham to find him still engaged in his conversation before spotting her step-mother intently staring at her._

_"It's rather loud in here," she began, returning her gaze to him. "Do you mind if we talk on the balcony?"_

_He, too, glanced toward the group before offering a small nod._

_When they'd made it outside, she smiled, bringing a hand t push some of her hair back. "I'm sorry, I was just very ready to escape the chaos."_

_"Chaos?" he asked with a raised eyebrow._

_With a light laugh, she answered, "You caught me. That woman drives me mad."_

_"I know," he whispered._

_When she glanced to him, she found him staring at her, but the moment their eyes met, he quickly averted them causing her to smile. His looks always had a way of warming her to her core, the hidden secrets he held behind his blue eyes never escaping her notice._

_"How long are you here for?"_

_He sighed, turning to fully face her. "Only today, I'm afraid. I was delivering a document for the Commander."_

_"Oh," she whispered, more disappointed than she cared to admit to herself._

_"I was going to visit you at the infirmary before I departed," he said quickly._

_Nodding, she knowingly smiled. "I have no doubt. I'm sure you don't have a death wish."_

_He chuckled. "I am quite terrified of your wrath."_

_"You'd better be," she replied, with an uncontrollable grin._

_After a moment, he spoke again, "You look beautiful tonight."_

_Jerking her eyes to his, she found him staring at her once more, his gaze boring into what felt like her very soul._

_With a light laugh, she glanced about, feeling herself warming at his intense gaze, her eyes landing on something above them._

_"Katrina, forgive me, I shouldn't have-"_

_Giving it no thought, she stepped closer to him, her hands going to his sides as she leaned up to cover his mouth with hers._

_His body stiffened and, for a moment, she thought he might pull away, but then ever so slowly, his hands came to her neck as his lips began to brush hers gently._

_At his response, her entire body surged with desire at the feel of him against her, his body warm and hard. When his hands slid up her neck and into the back of her hair, she released a small moan as he pressed closer to her, their bodies now flush._

_After another moment, he pulled back slightly, resting his forehead to hers as their breath mingled against each other's faces._

_Suddenly, he pulled further back from her, his eyes wide._

_"Katrina-"_

_"Mistletoe."_

_At her whisper, he frowned and she could see he was beginning to panic, so she lifted a hand to gesture above them._

_His eyes followed to the bit of ribbon and tree hanging above them. "Mistletoe."_

_"Mistletoe," she repeated after him._

_When his eyes made their way back to her, he still seemed a bit uncertain, his hands fidgeting in their usual manner._

_"I just..." she whispered, imploring his forgiveness with her eyes. "I hope you're not offended."_

_"Offended?" He shook his head quickly. "I'm not-no. Absolutely not."_

_With a playful smile, she shrugged. "It is tradition."_

_He nodded, blinking rapidly. "Yes...tradition."_

_They were now caught in another stare that she had no intention of being the one to break this time. All she wanted to do was kiss him again, touch him, tell him what he truly meant to her._

_Stepping toward him, she whispered, "Ichabod-"_

_"Katrina?"_

_Nearly jumping out of her skin, she spun to find her father at the entry to the balcony._

_His eyes were darting between she and Ichabod, narrowed._

_Finally gaining some of her composure, she conjured a small smile. "Yes?"_

_"Your fiancé is looking for you," he said, his eyes boring into her, his tone letting her know he had little doubt that he had interrupted something._

_"I'll be there in a moment."_

_Her father didn't move. "Now, Katrina."_

_The two were now caught in their own stare until Ichabod cleared his throat, drawing her gaze._

_"If you'll excuse me," he began, his eyes on everything but her. "I should be getting to the inn. It's been a long day." He gave a slight bow of his head in her direction. "Ms. van Tassel."_

_As he moved past her, she darted a hand out to catch his arm. "You'll visit...before you leave?"_

_He nodded, his eyes still avoiding hers. "If I have time."_

_With that, he continued past her father, who stared after him with narrowed eyes._

"Perhaps, I might have allowed you control of our first kiss."

She raised an eyebrow. "You allowed me?"

He rolled his eyes as he pulled her close again. "Fine, Katrina, you took me by complete surprise when you practically attacked me."

Laughing, she shrugged. "That's all I wanted you to admit."

He shook his head before his eyes began dancing around the square.

"We should find you something to eat. I'm sure you're starving after all your traveling."

His hand tightened in hers as he leaned close to whisper in her ear. "I've been starving for four months."

From the sound of his voice and the look in his eye, she knew exactly what he was implying and it caused her breathing to pick up pace.

"Did you want to go home?"

His eyebrow crooked in an almost comical way as his gaze slid down her form.

"Very, very much so."

Swallowing a sudden rush of saliva down, she nodded wordlessly, allowing him to take her hand and begin leading her in the quickest direction of their home.

As they rounded one of the stands, Ichabod pulled up short, causing her to bump into him.

"Ichabod, what's wrong?"

Following his shell-shocked gaze, she found Abraham von Brunt standing not five feet from them, his eyes trained directly on their entwined hands.


	9. Chapter 9

After a moment of staring, she realized that she wasn't breathing, and from a quick glance to Ichabod, she was fairly sure he wasn't either. His eyes were slightly wide and his body completely tense.

Abraham took a step forward, an unreadable expression upon his face.

"Well, if it isn't the Crane's." His gaze dropped to her belly for a moment before rising to meet her eyes. "All three of you."

Ichabod, finally coming to himself, unfroze with a nod. "Abraham, it's good to see you."

Abraham's eyebrow rose in question. "Is it?" he asked, before chuckling. "From our last conversation, I would have thought you'd be happy never to lay eyes upon me again."

_"Katrina, what on earth are you doing?"_

_Tightening her hold on his arm, she practically dragged him down the street before rounding a corner to slip into the alley between the Post and the Bakery._

_"Katrina-"_

_With a shove at his body, she roughly backed him against the wall before covering his mouth with her own._

_The surprise he felt was clear in his hands slow response to finding her hips, but it passed quickly as his grip tightened, pulling her harder against him._

_After a while of exploring the warm cavern that was his exquisitely delicious mouth, she finally did what she'd been contemplating about all throughout lunch. __With sleek precision, she slid a hand to the waist of his trousers, playfully toying with it by slipping her fingers just beneath the material and tickling along his smooth skin. __From the way he eagerly continued with the return of her kiss, his tongue engaging in an unending battle with her own, she knew he had yet to consider her actions._

_They'd secretly wed just over three weeks ago and the process of acclimating themselves with the other's body had begun and she found it was a process she never wanted to cease. _

_Smiling into their kiss, she recalled his utter horror at her bold ideas of what their sexual life should be._

_While Ichabod had admitted, quite regretfully, that he'd participated in various sexual acts with women, she had been completely new to the experience. __Her one and only kiss had been shared with a boy who had thought it perfectly acceptable to simply lean forward and steal her first intimate act. He'd quickly learned the error in his thinking as she'd abruptly thrown him a good ten feet from her the moment his lips had touched hers._

_Her lack of experience, however, hadn't been for a lack of contemplation. For the last three years, she'd considered Ichabod Crane in more than just an innocent and loving fashion. The unavoidable desire he'd sparked in her from the very start had relentlessly plagued both her dreams and waking thoughts, often leading her to spending many nights in a sweaty mess from her self-indulging acts._

_After they'd finally consummated their love, in the most awkward, yet innocently perfect way, a deep longing for more had consumed them both, leading to many new discoveries in the area of what was pleasing and what was not._

_When she'd finally gained her courage, her desire to please him had consumed her, tempting her to act upon thoughts she'd only ever considered about him, thoughts she'd never utter to anyone else apart from him. It had been quite the debate between them as Ichabod's worry over disrespecting her had caused quite the temper to flare in her, forcing her to lay down the rules of their bedroom, which had left him quite surprised at the start. It had taken some convincing, but eventually she'd gotten him to understand that her desire to please him in every way possible was just as great as his for her._

_Her memory over the subsequent acts that followed caused her smile to grow even more as she deftly slipped her hand beneath the material of his trousers to encompass him in her palm, t__he result having him abruptly tear his mouth from hers as his head slammed back into the Post's wall._

_"Katrina..." he whispered, attempting and failing to gain breath. "Some...someone's going to s-see."_

_With a slightly rough tug, she raised an eyebrow as his fingers dug into her hips even further, something she would usually adore, but at the moment would not allow to enter her contemplation. "Now, you're concerned? Because you sure didn't seem to be too worried when your hand slipped beneath my skirt at the dinner table earlier."_

_He slid his hand to her neck as he lifted his head to catch her eyes, an innocent look on his too handsome face._

_"I don't know what you're talking about."_

_Clenching her jaw, she spoke through gritted teeth, "Really? You don't remember relentlessly teasing me to the point of no return before pulling your hand away?"_

_A smirk formed on his lips causing the urge to slap him to form within her. _

_"Well, I couldn't have you crying out in pleasure in the middle of lunch, now could I? Your father would have been thoroughly upset, not to mention the Reverend and von Brunt's." With a chuckle, he leaned his forehead to hers, his warm breath washing over her skin. "I'm sorry, my love. I couldn't help myself. You're just so beautiful. My desire for you is overwhelming in its intensity."_

_Rolling her eyes at his sugary sweetness, she shook her head. "I don't know whether to leave you like this," she whispered, with a slow stroke of her fingers along his desire. "Or to demand you finish what you started beneath that table."_

_He raised an eyebrow, a boyish grin creasing his features. "Do I get a choice?"_

_Biting back a smile, she pulled her hand from him, ignoring his small moan of protest._

_"Take me home...now."_

_"Now?" he asked, with a frown. "But it's the middle of the day. If someone sees us go into the house-"_

_"I don't want to hide anymore, Ichabod."_

_His frown deepened. "It was your idea to keep our marriage a secret, Katrina."_

_Closing her eyes for a moment, she nodded, suddenly feeling a certain tiredness enter her. She had too many secrets. "I know, but..." Gaze on his once more. "I love you."_

_He smiled as his eyes softened, his fingers stroking along her cheek. "I love you, too."_

_"We kept our wedding a secret for Abraham's sake, but how long are we going to continue doing that, Ichabod? Do you honestly think he's ever going to be unaffected by this?"_

_Now it was his turn to close his eyes as a heavy breath left him. "I don't know."_

_Hand on his cheek, she brushed her lips over his. "I want to hold your hand in the street. Pridefully tell others you're mine. I want to kiss and make love to you when and where I want. Don't you want that?"_

_His face leaned further into hers as he nuzzled his nose along her cheek. "Of course, I do, my love. I want that so much."_

_Dropping her hand to thread their fingers together, she responded, "Then, take me home."_

_He hesitated before nodding, his eyes searching hers. "If you're sure."_

_"I am," she assured him with a small smile. "We'll talk to Abraham in the morning and...hopefully he'll..."_

_"He's not going to understand, Katrina," he offered regretfully. "He's going to be furious."_

_Her eyes fell to his shirt. "I know," she whispered, wishing her life wasn't so complicated. At least, she thought, this particular issue had nothing to do with magic and demons._

_With a deep breath, he brushed his lips over hers once more. "Let us go home," he said quietly, before turning to tug her out of the alley. _

_Relenting to his lead, they exited, but the very next occurrence forced her to hold back a slight yelp as Ichabod's hand was suddenly torn from hers as a body forcefully flew at his._

_Abraham. _

_He'd tackled Ichabod to the ground and the two were now rolling in the dirt in a heap as Abraham held Ichabod down, his fist meeting Ichabod's face._

_As her shock began to melt away, she shouted, "Stop! Abraham!"_

_Ichabod finally managed to shove him away, sending Abraham flying back into the dirt, prompting her to move to help her husband stand. Reaching up to his lip, she touched the bleeding mess, but he moved his head away from her touch, his gaze trained past her._

_With a stern glare, she turned to Abraham as he unsteadily stumbled to his feet. "What is the matter with you?"_

_He threw an accusing finger at Ichabod. "He's the reason you broke our engagement!? He's nothing!"_

_Sucking in a deep breath, she began, __"I broke our engagement because I did not love you, Abraham. It had nothing to do-"_

_"Don't lie to me, Katrina!"_

_Sighing, she fully turned to him, taking in his anger contorted face. "I love Ichabod."_

_He visibly bristled, his fists clenching. "How long have you been whoring yourself to him?"_

_Ichabod jerked forward, forcing her to grab his arm in an attempt to stop him, but to no avail. His fist landed exactly where he intended it to, right against Abraham's jaw._

_"Ichabod!"_

_He paid her no mind as he bridged the distance to a dazed Abraham, who had stumbled back, and grabbed the front of his shirt, jerking him up._

_"If you ever speak of her in that way again, I will end you."_

_His voice bore a dangerous undercurrent that had her more than concerned as she stepped toward the seething men._

_"My love, please," she whispered, with a hand on his arm. "Let him go."_

_"Not until he apologizes to you."_

_"Ich-"_

_"Apologize!? After the two of you have betrayed me in such a way?" He abruptly shoved Ichabod back before glancing at her. "I could have given you everything and you choose to sneak about with him?"_

_While his voice carried anger, his eyes bore a world of hurt, hurt she could not ignore and had not expected in such intensity. She'd assumed the most Abraham would feel was wounded pride, but from the expression on his face now, she saw much more than she'd anticipated._

_"I'm so sorry, Abraham. We never meant to hurt you."_

_"I want an answer!" he shouted._

_"She's my wife," Ichabod said quietly._

_Abraham's head whirled to Ichabod, disbelief in his features. "What?"_

_"We married three weeks ago." Ichabod stepped toward him, hands held out in surrender. "We didn't intend for this to happen, Abraham, I swear."_

_Abraham's eyes darted between them, finally landing on her. "He has nothing to offer you."_

_Shaking her head, she glanced sideways to her husband, who seemed to be in silent agreement with Abraham as his gaze was on his dusty boots. "I require no more of him than his heart."_

_Ichabod's eyes found hers for a moment, his strength renewed, before turning back to Abraham. "You are my friend, Abraham, and I admit that Katrina and I acted very quickly, perhaps too quickly, but..please understand-" _

_"I will not understand!" he shouted, gesturing toward her. "She is mine!"_

_The possessiveness of his voice effectively ended her sympathy. "I am not a pretty object for you to adorn yourself with. That thinking, more than anything else, is why I broke my engagement to you." She stepped forward to grasp Ichabod's hand. "It was my decision to rush our marriage and while I am sorry that we hurt you, I will not apologize for finally being finished with allowing others to rule my life." Inhaling a deep breath, she continued, "Now, if you'll excuse us, my husband and I are going home."_

_With that, she departed, Ichabod in tow, completely ignoring the many onlookers they'd attracted._

That had been nearly a year ago, the last time they'd seen Abraham before this moment.

Ichabod forced a pleasant smile, his hand tightening in hers. "That was a long time ago. It's all rather hazy."

Katrina shifted uncomfortably under Abraham's intense stare. "I thought you had moved to Pennsylvania."

He nodded, clasping his hands behind his back. "I did, but my father has fallen ill, so I've returned home for the time being."

Ichabod gave a sympathetic look. "I'm very sorry to hear that."

More than ready to end this conversation, Katrina squeezed Ichabod's hand. "It was lovely to see you again, Abraham, but-"

"When are you due?"

Slightly annoyed at his interruption, she gave a thin smile. "About another two months from now."

"Congratulations," he replied with a nod, seemingly in deep thought.

Doing her best to attempt deciphering if his offering was sincere or not, she smiled again, this time with a little more warmth as it concerned her child. "Thank you."

Ichabod glanced at her, clearly reading her discomfort as she caught his eyes. "I'm very sorry to be so abrupt, Abraham, but I've only just returned to town and Katrina and I were headed home. Perhaps, we will see each other about town soon."

"Why wait?" he asked with a broad smile. "The two of you should join me for dinner in my home tomorrow night."

Eyebrows shooting up in surprise, she asked, "You want to have dinner? With both of us?"

This conversation was growing odder by the minute.

"Of course," he said with a pat to Ichabod's shoulder. "As you said, what happened occurred a long time ago. I hope the three of us can be friends once more." He gave a small shake of his head. "I feel the need to make up for my behavior the last time we spoke."

She caught Ichabod's eyes as he replied, "Well, that sounds...delightful, Abraham." She fought the urge to interrupt her husband as she could see where he was going with this and she wanted none of it. "We'd be happy to join you for dinner if that's what you really want."

Eyes snapping closed, she ignored the obvious delight in Abrahams next words. "It is, my friend."

More than finished with this conversation, she tightly gripped Ichabod's hand and began moving around Abraham. "We really need to be going now. I'm very tired."

Abraham quickly nodded. "Of course. I shall see the two of you tomorrow evening."

Another tight smile given and they were on their way.

As soon as they were out of sight, however, she released Ichabod's hand with little ado.

"Katrina..."

Too angry to speak, she instead sped up her pace, wanting more than anything to find the comfort of her home.


	10. Chapter 10

Upon entering her house, she promptly shut the door right in Ichabod's face knowing full well what a childish act it was, but, at the moment, being well beyond caring.

Not stopping her stride, she continued up the stairs, paying little mind to the door opening and closing behind her.

As she entered her room and moved to her dresser, she began the process of readying herself for bed and shuffling things about rather roughly.

"My love, I'm sorry."

The sorrow was most definitely there in his voice, but it was doing nothing to remove her annoyance.

"Katrina."

His voice was much closer now and she just knew he was going to touch her. Still refusing to acknowledge him, she began unlacing the front of her dress.

Sure enough, his hands slid about her waist, his body pressing flush into her back, his breath warm on her neck. The fact that his body felt so perfect against her was ruining her decision to stay angry.

"I am so sorry," he whispered, before reaching up and covering her fingers with his own, taking over her disrobement.

"Why did you agree to that?" she asked lowly.

Ichabod sighed against her skin. "He's my best friend, Katrina."

Dropping her gaze to his fingers as they brushed her breasts in their work, she shook her head, ignoring the shiver that went through her.

"He hasn't been your friend for a very long time. That was his choice."

His hand paused for a moment.

"What we did was wrong."

With a frown, she turned to face him to find his eyes bearing an unmistakable guilt in them.

"You can't be serious, Ichabod."

"Kat-"

"You regret our marriage?"

His eyes widened as his mouth hung slightly agape. "No! Of course not."

Gaze darting all about his face, she asked, "Then, what exactly did we do wrong?"

He sighed, bringing a hand to wipe over his face in clear frustration. "We just...went about it all wrong." Catching her eyes, he shook his head. "We hurt him, Katrina."

She held his guilt filled stare a moment longer before stepping around him to pull back the covers of their bed.

"Katrina..."

Thoroughly ignoring him, she sat on the bed and removed her boots before untying the final lace of her dress, allowing her article of clothing to fall from her.

She knew his eyes were on her. They always were. Seizing her nightgown, she slipped it over her head before climbing beneath the covers.

As she adjusted herself the best she could, she heard him sigh and begin to undress.

When he slid into his side of the bed, she turned on her side facing away from him.

Another sigh escaped him. "I'm not doing this, Katrina."

Unsure what he meant, she continued her stare with the wall, that is, until his hands slid around her waist, his breath hitting her ear. Infuriated, she attempted to remove herself from him, but he wouldn't release her, his hold tightening.

"We've not seen each other in four months. I refuse to spend our first night together apart."

"Perhaps you should have considered that before you began doubting our choices," she answered rather heatedly.

His body tensed against hers. "I'm not doubting anything. I'm simply admitting to the fact that we rushed into our marriage, forgetting-no...not caring, that we could hurt others by doing so."

Huffing, she bit out, "Well, Abraham didn't seem to care about my feelings when he called me a whore, now, did he?"

His response delayed a moment before he whispered, "I wanted to murder him for that."

"Then, why did you agree to this?" she asked utterly confused. "You can't honestly think this is a good idea."

"Because... I don't want to be the type of man who is unable to forgive." His hand slid to rest against their unborn child. "What sort of example would I be to our child?"

Our child.

Despite her anger, those words brought a warmth to her.

"Ichabod," she began softly. "We don't owe Abraham anything. We were in love for a very long time and we made a choice to accept that. I refuse to apologize for choosing to live a life of worth rather than be Abraham von Brunt's prize wife that he would have more than enjoyed flaunting in front of you."

For a moment, he was completely still. "I'm sorry," he finally whispered. "If you really don't want to go, I'll send word that we are unable to attend."

His words were so low and full of sorrow that she couldn't help but shake her head. She knew he missed his friend. Why he liked Abraham so, she couldn't fathom, but he did and she couldn't deny him this when he already had so little, had given up so much.

"We can go. So long as you promise to remain at my side the entire time. His mother positively hates me."

His lips brushed her ear. "Wild animals could not drag me from you."

Unable to contain her smile, she allowed it to grace her face. "I've missed you."

"And I, you, my love."

His words were followed by his fingers gripping the material of her nightgown, pulling it in an upward direction. As the hem of it reached her hip, she released a small gasp as his fingers found her already damp center.

"Ichabod..."

The slow ease with which he worked his way within her set her nerves on end. If there was one thing her husband was more than adept at, it was his skill at pleasing her in an unspeakable ways.

His lips found her shoulder, beginning a wet trail to her neck, as he added another finger into the mix.

"Oh..." Lifting a hand, she reached behind her to thread her fingers in his hair. "I love you."

His fingers picked up their pace, his thumb beginning a deep rub against her sensitive place, pulling yet another gasp from her as her body jerked against him.

"Tell me again."

At his gentle prodding, she whispered, "I love you...so much."

"Again."

By the time her body was finished spasming beneath his ministrations, she'd been reduced to a mumbling mess.

His fingers left her, his hand sliding further up her body, taking her nightgown with it. Once he had it over her head, he pulled her to him and shifted to hover over her, eyes raking her form before pausing at her swollen belly.

"You are so beautiful."

His eyes were shining in wonder as he bent to place a chaste kiss to the place their child resided.

Sliding a hand into his hair, she pulled him back up to her. "Make love to me."

A smile crept over his face as he leaned down, his lips finding hers.

Quite a bit of time of tongues dancing, hands roaming, and desires building passed.

Finally, he entered her, his manhood filling the void that had been absent from her for entirely too long.

Gentle movements and light kisses ensued before she slid the hand not caressing his neck along his back.

"Ichabod, please..."

His mouth left her neck, his gaze finding hers. "What is it, my love?"

Sucking in a breath, she dug her nails into his shoulder. "I need more of you."

He leaned his forehead to hers, his breath hitting her face in quick waves. "I can't."

With a frown, she paused her caress of his face. "Of course, you can."

"No, I-" His eyes darted down their bodies, seemingly resting on her belly. "I don't want to hurt our baby."

Hear skipping a beat, she smiled at her husband's protectiveness. "My love, you won't."

His eyes darted back to hers, his blue orbs full of concern. "But...I mean, what if I...?"

Eyebrows raising, she finished, "Thrust... too hard?"

Wide-eyed, his movements slowed. "Katrina-"

"Ichabod Crane," she interrupted quickly. "If you dare stop, I'll murder you in your sleep. I've had nothing but my own methods to tide me over these long months without you. So, when I say I am desperate for your touch to be completely within and surrounding me in the most fulfilling way possible, I'm being very, very truthful."

Mouth opening and closing in an amusing fashion, he stuttered out, "Are you sure...?"

She chuckled. "Yes, I'm more than sure."

At his lack of movement, she wrapped an ankle over his calf. "Harder...now."

He hesitated for another moment before his body began once more moving within hers, his pace growing with every thrust.

"More."

His eyes bore into hers, his hands now clutching the sheets beneath her as his efforts became more rough.

When the fingers of one of his hands brushed over her center, she threw her head back into the pillows, arching her body into his as he brought her over the edge again. Clutching at the sheets beneath her, she absorbed the sensations coursing through her body.

As his movements began to slow, she quickly attempted to regain her senses as she shoved at his shoulders until she had him beneath her.

"Katrina-"

Fingers on his mouth, she shook her head. "Shh...don't stop."

Eyes boring into hers, he slid his hands to her hips as she began rocking against him, attempting to draw his end from him.

"Katrina..."

Hips rotating quickly, she considered how much easier it was to be above him rather than beneath him for this act. It didn't take too long for his face to contort as his release left him in a gasping curse, his warmth finding a home deep within her.

As she waited for him to come down from his haze, she slowed her movements, waiting for his eyes to open. When they did, they found hers immediately as a smirk came to his face.

"I'm never leaving this bed again."

Chuckling, she eased herself to the bed beside him, snuggling into his warm embrace.

"Is that a fact?"

Lips finding her forehead, he breathily whispered, "Absolutely."

With a smile, she threaded her fingers through his. "That sounds wonderful to me."


	11. Chapter 11

As the giant door loomed before her, an overwhelming, sinking feeling she couldn't shake began to take hold of her.

"This isn't going to end well."

Ichabod's hand tightened in hers as he gave her a reassuring smile that didn't reassure her in the least. "Perhaps. Perhaps not."

Desperation clung to her as she turned to her husband. "Ichabod please, let's just go home."

His gaze came to her, a frown creasing his face. "Katrina, what's wrong?"

She opened her mouth to answer when the door opened, cutting off her response. "Mr. and Mrs. Crane, you're expected in the sitting room."

The young maid held the door for them to enter.

Sighing, Katrina made to step inside, but Ichabod's hand tightened in hers to hold her back. "I'm afraid my wife isn't feeling well," he said apologetically. "Please give our regrets to the von Brunt's."

He began to step back onto the porch when Abraham appeared in the doorway, much to her chagrin. "Ah, you came."

The broad smile upon his face actually made her feel ill.

"Yes," Ichabod answered, clearing his throat. "But I'm afraid we can't stay."

Abraham's smile waned. "Why ever not?"

"Katrina's not feeling very well..." he responded as he shifted his feet back and forth before quite clumsily adding, "The baby."

She did her best to hide her smile at Ichabod's awful delivery. He was still a terrible liar.

Abraham's gaze immediately fell to her belly. "Oh, well...I'm sure we have something that will aid you in your recovery."

Katrina gave a tight smile. "It's not something that can be aided."

With a sigh, Abraham nodded, "If you must leave, very well. I was simply looking forward to your company, Ichabod. It's been a long time."

The narrowing of her eyes could not be helped as she took in the fact that Abraham's eyes had remained on her as he spoke, something missed by Ichabod as his eyes were also fixed on her. Her own sigh had to be suppressed as she considered how much she knew Ichabod wanted to stay.

"I suppose we can stay for a while, though, I can't promise we won't leave abruptly should I feel the urge."

Catching her husband's eyes, she made sure he knew the meaning of her words. Any annoyance on her part would result in their immediate exit from this house.

The slight raise of his eyebrows gave answer to his knowledge of her hidden meaning, but that didn't stop him from turning fully toward her.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his eyes latching onto hers in question. "We can do this another day."

Gently squeezing his hand, she gave him a reassuring smile. "I'm fine." At his doubtful look, she added, "I promise."

Abraham clapped his hands together. "Well then, shall we?"

Doing her best to cover her reluctance to step foot in the von Brunt home, she followed as Abraham led them into the house. Upon rounding the corner to the sitting room, however, Katrina froze, disbelief coursing through her. Not only were the elder von Brunt's present, but her father and step-mother as well.

"Katrina, darling, how wonderful to see you."

Her father's expression seemed one of genuine delight, but, then again, she never could read him well. Her ability at lying rather adeptly had most certainly been inherited from him.

As she attempted to process this turn of events, Ichabod's hand reached for hers giving her the strength to finally speak. "Father, I wasn't expecting you to be here."

He gestured to Abraham's father. "Howard asked us over for dinner last night at the festival. It would seem the idea of having all the van Tassel's in the same room was in the air last night."

Katrina bristled. "The Crane's. As I'm a Crane, the appropriate way to phrase that would be the van Tassel's and the Crane's."

Her father's facade slipped slightly, though recovered just as fast. "I suppose if you wanted to be detailed about it."

The urge to leave was already entering her.

"Yes, well," Abraham began, "I think it's simply wonderful that we're all together again, just as we used to be."

His eyes were once again on hers sending an uncomfortable sensation through her.

Her father smiled. "Yes, it's as if nothing has changed at all."

"I need to sit." Gripping Ichabod's hand, she led him to a small sofa doing her best to hold her tongue.

"Ichabod," started Abraham, "Tell us how things are progressing with our General."

The conversation fell into politics, thankfully retracting from some of the tension in the room. As the men conversed, her thoughts began to wander as she glanced about, a rush of memories flooding her. Uncomfortable dinners. Overly extravagant parties. Attitudes of superiority. She'd hated this house. The only bright spots had been the stolen one's she and Ichabod had found when she was avoiding Abraham.

_"Ms. van Tassel."_

_Nearly jumping out of her skin, she turned to find Ichabod entering the kitchen._

_"Forgive me," he quickly said, his face apologetic._

_"Oh, no," she said, holding up a hand. "I was just..."_

_"Hiding?" he offered with a small smile._

_Releasing a light laugh, she shrugged. "You caught me." She gestured to the bottle of wine she'd been consuming. "Join me?"_

_He closed the distance between them before picking up the bottle. "Hmm, I didn't realize you were a lover of wine."_

_"I'm going to be a von Brunt soon. That's more than enough reason to dull my senses."_

_His eyebrows rose slightly, causing her to sigh. She hadn't meant to sound quite so resentful._

_"I'm sorry. I'm just not in the best of moods tonight."_

_He shook his head. "It's alright. You've dealt with more than enough of my moods. I suppose it's only fair that I should return the favor."_

_Smiling, she poured him a glass and handed it to him. "You haven't seen anything yet. I can have quite the temper."_

_He chuckled. "I've heard."_

_"Really? From who?"_

_"Your father." His head tilted. "Your step-mother. Abraham. Mrs. von Brunt. Mr. von Brunt."_

_She flexed her jaw. "Is that all?"_

_He smiled. "Mary. Reverend Knapp." He frowned. "The postmaster."_

_"Mr. Taylor said I have a temper? When?"_

_Mr. Taylor was the sweetest man in town. She couldn't imagine him saying such a thing._

_"This morning. I must have come in just after you left. He was quite flustered."_

_"Oh," she whispered, slight embarrassment filling her. "I might have received a letter from Abraham informing me that I was to behave tonight." She rolled her eyes. "Apparently, he doesn't like it when I state my opinion. The little man was too cowardly to tell me to my face."_

_Ichabod nodded knowingly. "So, that's why you broke Mr. Taylor's inkwell."_

_Guiltily meeting his eyes, she bit her lip. "Perhaps."_

_With a chuckle, he poured her another glass. "How is your attempt at behaving working out for you tonight?"_

_Shrugging, she brought the glass to her lips. "I'm hiding in here in an attempt to hold my tongue." She raised an eyebrow. "And what are you doing in here?"_

_A slight blush crept along his collar as he fiddled with his glass. "I...may or may not be fleeing from Ms. Ross."_

_Her head fell back as she laughed. "Betsy Ross? Is she fancying you?"_

_His eyes slid to her. "I'm not sure."_

_Frowning, she asked, "What do you mean?"_

_He glanced to the kitchen door nervously before turning back to her. "She..." He shook his head. "I can't."_

_"Oh, no," she said, stepping closer to him. "You can't stop now. Tell me."_

_He tilted his head from side to side before sighing. "You can't repeat this."_

_Quickly nodding, she waited with overwhelming curiosity._

_"She propositioned me."_

_Eyes popping wide open, she whispered, "No, she didn't. How?"_

_His blush was now fully covering his face. "She cornered me in the parlor and..."_

_"And...?"_

_"She slid her hands inside my coat and informed she knew where all the dark corners in the house were."_

_Riveted, as well as slightly annoyed, she prodded, "What did you do?"_

_She prayed with everything within her he didn't venture into any dark corners with that woman. The thought of anyone touching him set her on edge._

_"Well, I fumbled out an excuse about how I saw someone I knew before escaping in here."_

_Releasing a relieved breath, she chuckled, "I bet she's waiting for you to make your exit."_

_He threw another glance to the door, a slight look of terror coming to his face. "You don't really think so, do you?"_

_"I'm surprised you don't know how to handle this by now. The women of this town have been after you for years."_

_His eyes came back to hers. "One would think. Your father informed me I should pick one and marry her sooner rather than later."_

_"My father?" she asked with a frown._

_He nodded. "Yes. It was a rather odd conversation. He almost seemed desperate for me to find someone."_

_"He did?" she whispered, dropping her gaze to her glass, as she considered his words. It was no secret in her mind of how she felt about Ichabod. The only person she was aware of knowing her secret feelings was Mary and even then she still denied it to her friend. The idea that her father might know and was attempting to snuff out any possibility of her feelings reaching fruition began to kindle her temper._

_"Are you alright?"_

_The concern in his voice prompted her to glance up. When she caught his eyes, she felt her breath hitch. All she'd ever wanted was contained behind his blue orbs, his feelings toward her right there shining, just waiting to be seen._

_"Yes," she answered, shaking her head. "I'm just curious."_

_"About?"_

_"If you've found anyone you might consider marrying."_

_It's not that she actually wanted to know, but rather that she needed to know. She needed to know if she was imagining things or not, if his mutual feelings for her were real, or just a figment of her imagination._

_He swallowed, his eyes falling to her mouth for a moment before returning to her eyes. "No, at least...not anyone within my reach."_

_The intensity with which he was gazing at her was causing her breathing to become heavy._

_Deciding to change the tone of the room, she dropped her eyes._

_"You're not talking about Mary, are you? Because I'm afraid there's no changing her mind about you."_

_His chuckle was a welcome reprieve from the tension in the room._

_"Mary...no, I can't imagine that."_

_With a smile, she held out her glass to him for a toast. "Here's to hoping you acquire the woman of your dreams."_

_He stared at her glass for a moment before touching his to it and catching her eyes. "If only in my dreams."_

_His words sent a shiver down her as she brought her glass to her lips._

_If only in my dreams._

"When are you due, Katrina?"

Slightly startled to have been addressed by Mrs. von Brunt, a woman she was well aware disliked her intensely, she hesitated before replying.

"About another two months."

The woman gave a tight smile. "You must be thrilled."

Threading her fingers through Ichabod's, she answered, "I am. Ichabod and I are very excited to welcome our first child."

"And nervous," added Ichabod. "The idea of fighting in a bloody battle is more soothing that being responsible for another life."

Abraham chuckled. "Yes, I imagine it would be quite terrifying."

"You have no idea," Ichabod answered.

"He wouldn't, would he?" spat Mrs. von Brunt.

At her words, Katrina's jaw clenched. "If you have something to say, just say it. Otherwise, do us all a favor and keep your little snide remarks to yourself."

"Katrina..." Ichabod whispered admonishingly, but she paid him no mind as she continued glaring at the woman across from her.

"I have nothing to say to someone who would betray all she had been given in such a way."

Livid, Katrina stood. "I did not betray anyone." Throwing a finger at Abraham, she continued, "I broke my engagement to your son because I did not love him, nor did I wish to become another run of the mill housewife who has nothing better to do than look pretty for her husband." Sighing, she looked at Abraham. "I know you must think Ichabod and I were sneaking about, but we weren't. He did not even know of my true feelings until the day I informed you of my decision."

Abraham shuffled his feet uncomfortably. "Mother, let us leave Katrina be."

Mrs. von Brunt stood. "I will not tolerate this! How can you stand there and allow her to flaunt her lover in front of you? A man beneath your station? All the while full with the child that should have been yours?"

Before Abraham could respond, she stepped forward despite Ichabod's grasp attempting to stay her. "I am not flaunting, Ichabod. It was not my decision to come here. To be honest, I begged him not to come because I knew you people were too conceited and prideful to treat him as he deserves."

"Katrina van Tassel, you will hold your tongue!"

Her glare turned to her father. "Do not begin to even attempt scolding me. I told you that until you respected my marriage, I was finished with you. And my name... is Katrina Crane."

Abraham stepped forward. "Perhaps, we should all take a moment to collect ourselves." He glanced at her before turning to his parents. "I harbor no ill will toward Ichabod and Katrina. They are my friends and I asked them here to enjoy a meal with the people I care about most. Now," he said, conjuring a smile. "I believe dinner is ready. Shall we venture to the dining room?"

The others hesitated before moving to do just that. Once they were out of the room, just Abraham, along with she and Ichabod, was left.

"I'm very sorry for my mother's behavior." He smiled. "She has a tendency to hold onto perceived wrongs, well...forever."

Ichabod chuckled. "It's alright, Abraham."

"It's not alright," she whispered tiredly. "This was a mistake." She turned to Ichabod. "We should not have come here."

He sighed. "Katrina-"

"I came here for you, now I'm asking you to leave for me. Please."

His eyes softened as he threaded his fingers through hers once more. "Of course, my love." Turning to Abraham, he continued, "I'm very sorry, Abraham."

Abraham shook his head. "Oh, it's quite alright. Perhaps, we can catch up some other time, in a less hostile setting."

Ichabod nodded. "That would be lovely."

As they made their way to the door, Abraham bid them farewell and they made their exit.

"I'm sorry I made you come."

She laughed lightly. "Since when have you ever _made_ me do anything?" She stopped at the gate and leaned up to brush her lips over his. "You and I both know there's no making me do something I don't want."

He raised an eyebrow. "True."

Chuckling, she took his hand. "Now, your child and I are starving." She threw him a glance. "You're fixing dinner."

He shook his head with a smile. "Of course, my love."


	12. Chapter 12

"You're going to be able to stay home, then?"

Her joy could not be contained.

"Yes, I'll be performing duties about town, but I'll be home for the next four months, at least."

Throwing her arms around him, she couldn't contain her tears.

"My love, you know I hate it when you cry."

"I can't help it," she said, pulling back and wiping at her tears. "Everything always seems so...I'm not even sure. One moment, I'm happy, the next I'm angry. One moment, I can't stand the sight of you and the next...well..."

He smiled, his hand coming up to push back her hair. "I'm not entirely sure if I'm enjoying your pregnancy or despising it."

Rolling her eyes, she turned back to the table of flowers she'd been cutting. "It's not as if we don't make love constantly, anyway."

His arms slid about her waist from behind as he molded himself around her. She nearly jumped when his teeth nipped at her throat.

"How is it that you smell so good all the time?"

Smiling, she tilted her head from him in an attempt to escape his little bites, but he simply followed her.

"It's called bathing. You should try it sometime."

His hands slid upward to cup her breasts, teasing her through the material of her dress. "Perhaps you should show me how."

Once again rolling her eyes, she picked up another bundle of flowers. "Am I going to have two children clinging to me soon? You do realize all of our wondrous activities are about to halt very abruptly, don't you?"

"We'll see," he mumbled as his fingers dipped beneath the hem of her dress to cup her bare breast, his thumb toying with her nipple.

"You're in for a rude awakening, my love."

His other hand slid to lie against her center, his fingers pressing hard against her through her simple dress.

"Mhm..."

"Ichabod...I'm busy."

Even as she said the words, she found herself pressing into his body for more contact, his arousal evident against her back.

"So am I," he whispered against her ear as he began lifting her dress up the back of her legs.

"Ichabod, it's getting too difficult to do this."

"I promise we'll make do, my love."

Finally having bunched her dress at the waist, he moved his hand around to tease her entrance.

"Ichabod..."

A moan fell from him when his finger slid through her slick arousal. "For so much protestation, you seem awfully ready."

She smiled as two of his fingers easily slid within her causing her breath to hitch for a moment as she leaned her head back against his shoulder, catching his eyes. "Perhaps, I'm simply better able to control myself than you."

"I'm sure," he whispered as his thumb pressed against her, drawing a small gasp from her.

As she pressed further back into him, she once again felt his arousal at her back. "Are you going to do something with that?"

He chuckled and pulled his fingers from her, forcing a moan of protest to leave her.

"Patience," he scolded as he undid the buttons on his trousers.

"I possess very little patience and none of it is used concerning this."

His hands were back on her in record time, one's fingers easing back into her while the other rested at her neck to turn her face into him for a rather filthy kiss, his tongue, warm and wet, sliding around hers.

Fully enjoying his tongue exploring the deep corners of her mouth, she reached behind her to grasp him in her fingers.

"Katrina, don't," he said lowly, his voice thick with desire. "Not yet."

Nodding, she sucked in a breath as his lips journeyed along her jaw, his tongue dragging along her skin as his fingers drug against her walls.

As she felt that familiar sensation begin to creep along her, she began to lose her stance, her body going slightly weak against him.

Before she had time to gain her bearings, he'd pulled his fingers from her and caught both of her hands in his own before bringing them to the table in front of them. Not a moment later, she felt him at her entrance, hard and ready.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes," she barely got out before he was filling her, his entire length finding a home inside her.

For a moment, he stilled, his head falling to her back. "You feel so good, my love."

His fingers dug into her hips as he began his movements, a variation of rough and gentle. While he busied himself behind her, she clawed at the wood beneath her fingers as she attempted to breathe properly. The sensations consuming her were threatening to drop her to the floor, which she feared might actually happen if not for his hands holding her firmly in place.

As he became more frenzied in his thrusts, she had to bite back a scream as his fingers slid to quickly stroke her into yet another orgasm.

When she finished quaking like a mess beneath him, she pushed back against him, one of her hands supported on the table while the other searched for his face. Finding it, she pulled him forward into a rather frenzied kiss as he continued to move within her until he gave that one final thrust that left his warmth deep inside her, filling her completely.

"That was..."

"Perfect," he finished as he pulled from her, dropping her dress back down.

Regaining some semblance of control, she brought a hand up to brush her hair out of her eyes as his hands found her waist again, pulling her back into him, his face nuzzling her neck. "I love you."

Unable to stop her smile, she slid a hand up to tangle in his hair. "I love you, too."

With a light kiss to her neck, he whispered, "I'm so happy to be here with you, to know I'll still be here when our child comes."

Heart in her throat, she answered softly, "I find words to be lacking in the description of my joy over that knowledge, my love."

A knock at the front door echoed throughout the house.

"Leave it," he mumbled against her skin.

Turning to him, she smiled as another knock echoed. "It could be important."

He stepped into her, wrapping his arms around her in a hug, his head falling to its home in her neck. "Katrina..."

With a kiss to his cheek, she disentangled herself from him. "I'll be right back."

When she opened the door, she found the last person she expected.

"Abraham."

He nodded, his head bowing in his ever courteous fashion. "Katrina, you look lovely."

At a loss for words, she frowned. "What-what are you doing here?"

With a sigh, he held his hands out. "I wanted to come and personally apologize for my mother's behavior yesterday. It was completely inappropriate."

"Thank you," she said, unsure what more she could say.

"Is Ichabod home? I was hoping he and I could speak."

"Uhm," she hesitated, glancing back into the house, before returning her attention to Abraham. "Yes, he's here. Please, come in."

Smiling, she stepped aside to allow him through the door.

"This is a lovely house. It was your mother's childhood home, was it not?"

She followed his gaze about the parlor. "Yes, it was."

Abraham nodded as he continued to glance about.

"He's just through here."

With a small smile, she led him into the kitchen to find Ichabod leaning against the table in a slouched stature, clearly still pouting at her departure from him.

"Ichabod, Abraham's here to see you."

He jerked his gaze to her. "Oh," he said, standing up straight and clearing his throat. "Abraham."

Abraham gave an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry to drop by unannounced, but I was hoping to speak with you, with both of you actually."

Ichabod's eyebrows rose. "Alright."

"I know things are rather awkward between the three of us and I'm not going to say I'm not still upset."

She tensed slightly, glancing at Ichabod, who looked just as worried as she felt.

Abraham continued, catching her eyes. "But I'm willing to attempt putting my own feelings aside to maintain our friendship. The two of you mean so much to me and I would hate to know I'd lost two of my closest friends."

Ichabod slowly nodded. "That's...well, that sounds wonderful, Abraham"

While Ichabod was quick to accept, something about Abraham still unnerved her.

"Yes..." she whispered. "Wonderful."

"Well," Abraham continued. "I'm glad we have that out of the way. I was a bit worried you wouldn't forgive me."

Ichabod stepped forward and laid a hand to Abraham's shoulder. "There's nothing to forgive, Abraham. We all did things we shouldn't have."

It was on the tip of her tongue to once again remind her husband that they hadn't done anything wrong, but his obvious happiness at having his friend back stayed her words. She hated that was becoming a quality of hers, putting what he wanted above what she knew to be right.

Abraham cleared his throat. "Perhaps we could all have dinner sometime, to catch up."

Ichabod nodded with a broad smile. "Yes, you should join Katrina and I for dinner here soon."

The urge to scream at Ichabod entered her, but she once again stayed her words.

Abraham clapped his hands together. "Wonderful! I really must be going, but," he glanced to her. "Perhaps sometime this week?"

She gave a tight smile. "Perfect."

Once the two men were out of the room, she turned back to her flowers, thoroughly frustrated. The very idea of Abraham von Brunt in her home set her body on edge.

"If you remove any more of the stem, you're going to be left with nothing more than the petals."

She clenched her jaw. "Perhaps you should tend to what you know, dear husband, and I'll tend to what I know."

"Are you really so angry with me over inviting him to dine with us."

Shaking her head, she muttered, "I'm not angry."

He moved closer, his proximity only furthering her agitation as he leaned his back against the table.

"He apologized, Katrina."

"And you think he actually meant it?" she asked, nearly slicing her finger as she cut at the stem in her hand.

"Why wouldn't he?" he asked, his hands coming up to signal his own frustration. "He has nothing to gain from an apology."

She threw him an incredulous glare. "Are you really that naive, Ichabod?" His frown prompted a chuckle from her. "Surely you know the best way to hurt someone is to get close to them first." She raised an eyebrow. "Does the saying, 'Keep your friends close and your enemies closer,' ring any bells for you?"

He rolled his eyes as he shook his head. "You're being too judgmental. He's done nothing to suggest he harbors any ill will towards us."

"He makes me feel uncomfortable, Ichabod."

"Perhaps that's your own guilt causing that feeling," he accused with a glare of his own.

"I have nothing to feel guilty for concerning Abraham von Brunt!" she spat out. "_You_ are the one who has always felt guilty for loving me."

His eyes widened. "That's absurd! I do not feel guilty for loving you."

She huffed as she threw her scissors to the table. "I'm not fighting with you over this."

As she turned to leave the room, his hand reached out and grasped her arm. When he was in front of her, he narrowed his eyes and whispered heatedly, "I do _not_ feel guilty for loving you, Katrina."

Try as she may, she couldn't break his hold on her arm.

"Let me go, Ichabod." She was very near to the point of flinging him across the room.

Instead of doing as she asked, he tightened his hold on her as he backed her into the table, his face hovering directly in front of hers.

"I will never let you go," he forcefully declared. "Never."

With that promise, his mouth covered hers. It wasn't surprising, but it was unwelcome. Shoving at his chest proved pointless as did trying to bring a knee up as he only caught her thigh between his legs.

He pulled back momentarily, his lips brushing hers with his words. "Don't you know you would regret that as much as I?"

Not waiting for a response, he once again consumed her, his tongue almost immediately forcing its way between her lips and touching her own, to which she couldn't help her moan. She was well aware that giving in to him would not accomplish a thing. Ichabod's use of sex to persuade her nearly always worked, but this time she wasn't having it. Conjuring just enough power to shove him away, she slipped out of his grasp before turning on him heatedly.

"Don't touch me again."

He took a step toward her. "Katrina-"

"No!" she yelled, holding up a hand. "Why can't the fact that I want nothing to do with that man be enough for you?"

For a moment, he remained silent, his eyes dancing over her in clear doubt.

"There are so many other people you could be friends with, Ichabod. Everyone loves you. It would be so easy for you to find someone else to confide in."

He shook his head as he slumped against the table. "No matter how you phrase it or try to convince me, I...I still feel as if I betrayed him."

"Ichabod..." she started sympathetically.

"I can't help it, Katrina. If our roles had been reversed and you'd left me for him..." His eyes met hers. "What if I had chosen someone else over you?"

Stepping forward, she threaded her fingers through his. "It would have devastated me," she whispered. "But the difference is...Abraham was not in love with me."

Ichabod shook his head. "Yes, he was, Katrina. Perhaps not as deeply as I am, but he was in love with you, at least in his own way. I know it wasn't real love, but...you know as well as I that we hurt him. And it seems to me that he may still feel for you the way he did then."

Deciding not to argue the issue, she changed course. "Then, why are you so willing to allow him around me?"

He smiled. "Well, if you're implying I should worry over it, I don't. I'm not afraid anything will actually happen."

She rolled her eyes, grateful for some levity. "How do you know I don't harbor any romantic feelings for him?"

Eyebrows high, he leaned close to brush his lips over hers as his hands crept about her waist, his fingers brushing the underside of her breasts. When his kisses trailed up her jaw line and came in contact with her ear, her body jerked in his arms.

"Ichabod..."

He pulled back with a smirk. "I'm not worried."

Rolling her eyes, she stepped back from him. "Sometimes I really dislike you." She frowned as he chuckled. "Actually, most of the time I dislike you."

His chuckling ceased when her hands reached up to begin teasingly unlacing her dress.

As his eyes followed her hands, she raised an eyebrow. "Well, are you going to finish what you just started?"

His smirk returned. "Without an ounce of guilt."


	13. Chapter 13

"And where is your overly obnoxious husband this morning?"

She rolled her eyes as she sorted some bandages. "Hunting with Abraham."

Mary's eyebrows shot up, her eyes wider than usual. "Excuse me? Did you just say that Ichabod Crane, _your_ Ichabod Crane, is at present hunting with _your_ Abraham von Brunt?"

With a sigh, she paused what she was doing and turned to her friend. "Yes, that's what I said. Though, Abraham von Brunt is not mine in any way, shape, or form."

Mary chuckled before setting down a stack of blankets. "You and your men, Katrina. I swear..."

As they made their way out of the infirmary, she shook her head. "Ichabod feels guilty."

"And you don't?"

She threw a questing look to her friend. "You think I should feel guilty? For what?"

Mary shrugged, her eyes straight ahead. "You did break off your engagement mere weeks before your wedding. It had been arranged for nearly a year."

"I didn't love him, Mary," she explained, tired of this repetitive conversation everyone seemed to want to have lately, which was beginning to cause her temper to flare. "Are you suggesting I should have married him simply so his pride wouldn't be hurt?"

"Of course not, Katrina, " Mary said quietly. "But I do think you should show a little understanding...with everyone."

"Everyone?" she asked, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Those rules are in place for a reason."

Abruptly stopping in her walk, she waited for Mary to turn to her, which she finally did with seeming reluctance. "I can't believe you're doing this right now."

Mary sighed, her eyes falling to her hands as she twisted them uncomfortably. "Katrina, I'm happy for you, I truly am, but...you've hurt people with your choice."

"People?"

"Abraham. Your father. The coven...Me."

She frowned, completely confused. "How did I hurt you? Mary, this had nothing to do with you."

Her friend rolled her eyes. "Katrina, you're married to a man you love, one who would die for you his love is so great." She gestured to her belly. "You're having a baby created out of love. You have everything that some people go their whole lives wanting, but never attain."

Gaze falling to the street, she sighed. "I refuse to apologize for finding love."

"I found a love."

Her eyes shot to her friend. "What?"

Mary shook her head, tears present in her brown eyes. "Tristan Daniels."

Utterly confused, she shook her head as she attempted to understand. "But...you hate him. You said he's a useless waste of space who cleans your father's stables and was never going to amount to anything."

"Of course, I said that, Katrina!" her friend shouted, drawing a few startled glances from others in the vicinity. "Why would I open myself up to actually admitting I love him when I knew it was forfeit? I knew the coven would never allow it, that _you_ would never allow it."

When her childhood friend turned from her in a sob, she found herself unable to move. She'd thought she knew everything about Mary.

"Why didn't you say anything?" she whispered quietly.

Mary spun back to her. "When, Katrina? Everything has always been about you."

"That's not true," she replied defensively.

"Oh, really?" Mary held up a hand to begin counting off her fingers. "Poor Katrina, my friend who's mother died. Poor Katrina, her father's a drunk. Poor Katrina, her power is so great and hard to control. Poor Katrina, her step-mother hates her. Poor Katrina, her coven is mean to her. Poor Katrina, she has to marry a man she doesn't love." Mary shook her head in frustration. "Everything is always about you."

Completely taken aback, she started, "Mary-"

"No," Mary cut in, holding up a hand. "I have never cared, never minded, because I know how hard your life has been. I understood that as a girl and I understand that now, but I'm so tired of having nothing because of you."

At a loss for words, she blinked back her own tears. "I'm sorry."

Her friend took a deep breath and brought a hand to her head. "I needed my friend and you were too busy for me."

Stepping forward, she grabbed Mary's hand. "I am never too busy for you, never." After a moment's pause, she broached, "If you want to be with Tristan-"

"He's gone."

Confused, she asked, "What do you mean?"

Mary shook her head. "He asked me to marry him and I told him, no, so he left. He enlisted and left me."

"Well," she tried, attempting to be hopeful. "When he returns-"

"He's dead," her friend whispered, falling into her. "He's gone."

Eyes falling closed at her friend's sobs, she brought her hands up to support her.

"Mary, I am so sorry."

She wasn't sure what else she could say. If anything ever happened to Ichabod, she was sure she'd fall to pieces. It was too painful to even contemplate.

"I loved him so much," Mary whispered as she gripped her arms. "I gave him everything."

With a frown, she pulled back to catch Mary's eyes. "You mean...?"

Mary nodded pitifully. "We...we didn't even mean for it to happen. One moment I was yelling at him about how he was doing his job wrong and then...he was kissing me."

Unsure what to say, she blinked rapidly attempting to piece what she'd just learned together.

"No one will ever have me now."

She shook her head. "Mary-"

"I'm no longer a virgin, Katrina, and my parents know it."

"Your parents? How?"

"My mother found out about Tristan and I. She reminded me of the law and..."

"You broke things off," she finished, sympathetically.

Mary defiantly wiped at her eyes and sucked in a deep breath before turning to resume her walk. "It doesn't matter."

Not wanting to just let this slide, she whispered, "Mary-"

"I don't want a husband, anyway. Men are disgusting."

Unable to help her chuckle, she fell into step beside her friend with a small smile and offered softly, "Not all of them are."

"Ichabod Crane is the oddest, most annoying man on the planet. The fact that you would say such a thing is not a surprise to me." Mary rolled her eyes before finishing, "Prissy idiot."

After a laugh, they fell silent for a while, allowing her guilt time to build. "I'm truly sorry, Mary...for everything. I didn't realize how awful of a friend I've been." Sighing, she admitted, "With Ichabod and the baby, I supposed I've become self-centered as of late."

"No, Katrina, just..." Mary sighed as she glanced at her. "You have more on your shoulders than anyone will ever realize, but...just don't forget about me."

"Never," she promised with a squeeze to her friend's arm.

With a smile, Mary continued, "I'm just relieved to finally have it out. I felt like I was suffocating while keeping it from you. I'm not accustomed to there being secrets between us."

"You never have to keep anything from me, Mary, even when it's something like this."

"I know, I simply...wish things were different."

She looped her arm through her friends. "So, do I." After a moment, she glanced at Mary with a playful smile. "So, are you going to tell me about it?"

Mary's gaze met hers in confusion for a moment to which she raised an eyebrow, prompting Mary to roll her eyes. "Well as I said, I was yelling at him..."

* * *

><p>The moment she spotted him coming up the walk, she rose from the porch swing and made her way to the steps to wait for him. Upon coming up the steps, he glanced up with a smile.<p>

"My love, how was your-"

His words were cut off by her mouth as she wrapped herself around him the moment he was within her reach. Hands weaving through his hair, she pulled him as close as she could, needing to feel him, his warmth, his touch.

"Kat-"

She was having none of his attempting to pull from her as she tugged him harder against her. When his hands came up to cup her face, she deepened their kiss, slipping her tongue between his lips to taste him. After a few moments, he finally managed to escape her searching mouth before gazing at her confusedly. "What was that for?"

With a shrug, she shook her head. "Because I love you."

His eyebrow quirked in its usual fashion. "Really? What wonderful news." Hands gripping her waist, he carried on, "You had me quite fooled, Mrs. Crane. I'm glad to finally be in the know."

Rolling her eyes at him, she shrugged. "You're most welcome. I thought it might please you to hear it." At his chuckle, she smiled as she twirled his hair between her fingers. "You're in a good mood."

"Yes," he answered with a nod. "Abraham and I had a lovely time."

"And did you murder any defenseless animals on your little male outing?"

He chuckled. "A few poor squirrels and a rabbit or two."

"Hmm," she grunted with a smile. "I suppose the great hunter needs a reward for his offering." She nodded toward the house. "Why don't we go inside and let me give you your reward?"

His brow scrunched together as his eyes narrowed. "What has gotten into you? This morning you acted as though you wanted to tear my head from my shoulders for even considering going out while Abraham was within reach of a weapon."

"I just..." Her words faded as she caught his blue eyes, the ones that held so much of her heart. "I'm so happy you're home and safe. We're so blessed, Ichabod, and I just want to spend every moment I can in appreciation of that."

The small smile that came to his face as he reached up to grasp her hand filled her with untold warmth.

"How about we go inside and I reward you?"

"For what?" she asked with a laugh.

He shrugged as he began tugging her inside. "For tolerating me, of course."

Shaking her head, she nodded. "Of course."


	14. Chapter 14

"I can't believe we're inviting him into our home, tonight."

Her frustration over her husband's need to remain friends with her ex-fiancé was steadily driving her mad. For Abraham to actually be coming to dinner in their house was more than disconcerting. The man set her on edge in ways she couldn't find words for and any amount of time spent in his presence left her feeling like she needed to cleanse every inch of her skin.

"Katrina...please. Can we not do this again?"

Spinning to face him, she narrowed her eyes. At present, he was adjusting his collar, but failing miserably as it would not stand the way he normally liked. They'd been arguing all day over the dinner that was about to occur. Small retorts here and there in an attempt to get under the other's skin in the hopes that they would give up. The only thing was, they were both too stubborn to do so, which meant both of them were now in less than pleasant moods.

When he seemed to reach the end of his patience, he threw his hands up, meeting her glare with one of his own. "Would you please help me?"

With a sigh, she set the glass in her hand down on the table before making her way over to him. As she reached up to adjust his collar, she noticed his hands fidgeting in their usual manner, prompting her to glance up to find him staring at her intently, his irritation clear.

Returning to her task, she spoke, knowing she was going to push him right over with her news. "I invited Mary to eat with us."

He cursed under his breath. "Katrina...why would you do that? You know how much she irritates me."

She shrugged, pleased at having gotten to him. "You know how much Abraham irritates me." She glanced up to him again as she finished his collar with a smirk. "That didn't stop you from inviting him."

Jaw clenched, his hands gripped her waist as he began backing her up. "I've had enough of this," he grunted as her back hit the table.

"What do you think-"

Before she could finish her question, his mouth was on hers, his tongue immediately seeking entrance as it pressed hard against her mouth. Without really thinking, she parted her lips for him, allowing him to delve inside her. The result being that of his hot breath seeping into her and sending unavoidable sensations straight down her spine. When his hands fell and began gripping her dress, she pulled back, but his mouth simply found a new home in her neck, nipping and sucking at her skin.

"Ichabod, they're going to be here any minute."

His hands slid further up her dress as he relentlessly sucked at her throat, prompting her to practically search for the ability to speak.

"Ichabod..."

When he abruptly stepped back and lifted her up to sit upon the table, she did her best to sort through her thoughts at his separation, but before she could form a coherent one, he'd dropped to his knees before her causing her eyes to widen.

"We can't do this right now."

As he parted her thighs, he smirked up at her. "You don't have to do anything, my love."

Her retort was lost as his head descended to the place between her thighs, the feel of his tongue stroking along her sending her body into motion as her fingers wove into his hair.

"Oh God..." she whispered as he relentlessly teased her.

When his hands spread her even further, she leaned back with the support of her other hand as her vision began to blur. She was so very close.

"Ichabod, please..."

"I'm not eating right there," came Mary's voice, cutting through her lust filled haze.

Jerking her gaze in the direction of the doorway, she found both Mary and Abraham, one with an amused expression, the other with a locked jaw, staring at them. With a curse, Ichabod stood abruptly, nearly knocking her over in the process, before helping her down from the table.

"We were just-" Ichabod began before Mary interrupted.

"Eating beforehand?"

If it were at all possible, her husband turned even redder from his blush.

"Mary," she scolded, unable to meet anyone's eyes.

Ichabod cleared his throat as he gestured in an irritated manner toward the door. "Have you never heard of knocking?"

Mary's eyebrows shot up. "We did... three times. And Crane," she added pointing to the corner of her mouth. "You have a little something here."

Immediately, Ichabod spun on his heel and walked to the kitchen with yet another curse, leaving her alone with their two guests in awkward silence.

This time, Abraham cleared his throat. "Dinner smells wonderful."

Finally glancing to him, she found him staring at her with an odd expression, whether it was anger or pleasantness, she couldn't decide, but she did know she didn't want it on her another moment.

"Yes, uhm," she gestured to the table where she noticed a glass knocked over. "You can sit...wherever you want."

With that, she turned and quickly followed in her husband's footsteps.

"Why did you leave me?" she bit out the moment the door closed behind her.

He glanced to her as he brought a hand to run through his hair. "It was the intelligent thing to do. I simply beat you to the idea."

She stomped her foot. "I _hate_ you."

His eyebrow shot up. "Really? I didn't have that impression five minutes ago when you were writhing from my ministrations."

Rolling her eyes, she picked up a dish and shoved it into his hands. "Take this out there and lighten the mood."

"Why must I be the one to go out?" he asked in a bit of a whiny voice.

"Because," she answered with a self-satisfied smirk. "This entire night was your idea." She shoved at his shoulder. "Now go entertain your friend. I'm sure he is primed and ready to rekindle your friendship."

With a glare, he disappeared through the door, leaving her alone to her complete and utter embarrassment. The moment the door closed, she leaned against the counter and brought a hand to her eyes.

This night was a terrible idea.

* * *

><p>"So, what are we naming the little hell child that's about to make our acquaintance?"<p>

Sighing at Mary's attempt at lightening the conversation, she glanced up to find her grinning. Her friend was enjoying this situation entirely too much for her liking. Things had been tense since they'd sat down to dinner. The discussion had ranged from the war to who was caught with who in the latest scandal about town.

"Jeremy," she answered, taking a sip of her water.

"Why Jeremy?"

Abraham's question brought her eyes to his to find him staring at her again. It seemed every time she glanced to him, he was doing just that. The fact that Ichabod wasn't mentioning it, or even acknowledging it, was infuriating her.

"It was my grandfather's name," replied Ichabod as he brought his glass of wine to his lips. "We thought it appropriate."

"Hmm," was Abraham's only offering to the explanation as he returned to the meal before him.

"And if it's a girl?"

She glanced to Mary. "We haven't picked one."

"Why not?" asked her friend with a frown.

"Katrina seems to be under the impression it will be a boy for some reason and refuses to consider anything else."

Throwing her husband a playful smile, she replied, "It's going to be a boy."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm sure it will be, but I still think we should consider names just in case."

"Why? I'm always right."

He shook his head, his eyes glinting with mirth. "Of course, my love."

Mary chuckled. "This is why I don't have dinner with the two of you often. You start giving off all that energy."

"Energy?" she asked. "What are you going on about, now?"

"You know," she said gesturing between them. "The kind that makes it obvious the moment we're out the door, you're going to continue what Abraham and I so rudely interrupted earlier."

Closing her eyes, she whispered, "Mary, could you please attempt to reign yourself in?"

"But my shiny personality is why you love me so much."

"Well, I certainly don't love you," Ichabod grunted. "And by the way, our child will be perfectly normal, not a _hell child_ as you so eloquently phrased it."

Mary raised an eyebrow, holding her hands up. "Excuse me, I was only making an educated guess. Between Katrina's temper and your overwhelming sense of superiority, I can only imagine what the little monster will be like."

She chuckled. "She does have a point, my love."

He threw her an annoyed glance before turning back to Abraham. "Have you decided if you will remain in Sleepy Hollow long, Abraham?"

Abraham sat straighter, his face contorting into a smile, but not so fast that she didn't catch his frown at their conversation. "Yes, I'm thinking of returning permanently. With my father's health in the state it's in, my mother will need me here to manage our estate."

He sounded so giving which made her fight the urge to roll her eyes. Abraham von Brunt was anything but giving. Her time spent in his company had taught her the only people he cared about were the ones who had something to offer him.

"Any contenders for a Mrs. von Brunt in your sights?" she asked with a small tinge of relief that she was no longer in his sights, despite how he still looked at her.

"I'm afraid not," he sighed. "All the women in this town seem to be solely after my wealth."

Mary chuckled. "If only we all had that problem."

Ichabod fixed her with an annoyed look. "Perhaps you should marry him. You can quit the infirmary and stop influencing my wife with all of your foolish antics."

"Perfect," she whispered under her breath, knowing this conversation was about to take a turn. It didn't help matters that her nausea from earlier in the day was returning. Apparently, her little one was just as upset with this day as she.

"My antics?" Mary asked incredulously. "As if you have any room to speak of antics. You threw a fit yesterday because Katrina chose to go with me to dinner rather than stay here and listen to you go on and on about your precious General." Mary pointed a finger. "I really feel sorry for you, Katrina. I can only imagine how neglected your baby is going to feel because you're too busy tending to your other overgrown child."

Ichabod huffed as he dropped his spoon. "Well, if I'm her child, so are you. I wouldn't be shocked to find you climbing in the bed with us one night because you had a nightmare."

"The two of you stop," she bit out, bringing a hand to her head.

A simultaneous huff left the both of them as they slumped back in their chairs.

Lifting her eyes to Ichabod, she spoke, "Forgive me, my love. I'm afraid I'm not feeling well and must retire."

With a worried expression, he immediately stood and came to her side. "Let me help you upstairs."

As he pulled her to her feet, she shook her head. "No," she replied with a glance to Abraham. "You stay here. Mary can help me."

Right on cue, her friend took up her other arm. "Yes, Crane. I can handle this. I am the nurse after all."

She noticed his jaw clench in response as she turned to Abraham. "Have a lovely night, Abraham."

He stood and bowed his head, ever the seeming gentleman. "You as well, Katrina. I hope you feel better."

With a tight smile, she nodded and turned back to her husband who was still glaring at Mary. Rolling her eyes, she laid a hand to his cheek to turn his attention to her. "Goodnight."

His eyes softened as he leaned down to lightly brush his lips over hers. "I'll be up shortly."

"No, no," she said, shaking her head. "Enjoy your night."

With a last smile to Abraham, she allowed Mary to lead her away.

"Well, that was awkward," offered Mary the moment they were out of the room.

"Yes," she answered, glad to be away from Abraham's lecherous stare. "It was."

* * *

><p>A slight shift in the bed stirred her, but she simply burrowed further into her pillow. When his arms came about her, his head finding its usual home at the back of her neck, she sighed.<p>

"It's late."

"Mhm," he mumbled into her hair. "I'm sorry. He kept talking and talking. I couldn't seem to find a polite way to tell him to get out."

She snuggled back into him. "Did you have a good time?"

His hand slid to tangle with hers. "I did." With a kiss to her neck, he asked, "Are you still ill?"

"It's passed."

"I'm glad," he whispered.

Silence fell between them and it wasn't long before sleep began tugging at her once more. Apparently, Ichabod wasn't finished, however, as his voice met her ears. "Have I thanked you recently?"

Frowning, she turned in his arms, attempting to make him out in the dark room. "For what?"

He paused for a moment before his hand slid to her neck. "For loving me."

Unable to contain her smile, she whispered, "I didn't exactly choose to."

"I know, but..." His words fell away as he seemed to be contemplating his words. "At dinner tonight, I couldn't help but think how different things might have been."

When he said no more, she brought her hand to cover his, threading their fingers together. "You mean, if I'd married Abraham."

A sigh fell from him, his warm breath brushing her face. "I'm so happy with you. Even when we're at our worst, you still manage to continue to delve even further into my heart."

"I must have gotten pretty deep today," she offered teasingly to which he chuckled.

"I can't imagine life any other way." His fingers tightened in hers. "It actually gives me pain to think of it, of a life spent without your touch, your love."

Scooting as close to him as she could, she brushed her lips over his. "It's a life you'll never have fear of living. I am always yours, Ichabod Crane."

His hand slid down to her waist. "Are you too tired?"

"Never, my love."


	15. Chapter 15

_Two weeks later_

"You're going to be late," she said sourly, leaning back in her chair as she watched him take his time with his breakfast.

"Then, I shall be late."

Knowing what he was doing, she rolled her eyes. "I'm fine."

Not looking at her, he kept eating. Slowly.

"Ichabod," she deadpanned, her gaze trained on his shifting form.

His eyes flickered up for a moment before resuming his staring at his plate. "Katrina, you were ill all night and that's to say nothing of this morning. You're hardly fine."

"It's normal," she said aggravated that he wouldn't listen to her. "I'm a nurse, Ichabod. Do you think my sense disappeared just because I'm with child?"

Setting his fork down, he looked at her, his mouth open to answer, when a knock sounded at the door. As she prepared to stand and answer it, Ichabod held out a hand to stop her. "No. Stay there. I'll answer it."

Huffing, she settled back in her chair. Over the last couple of weeks, he'd taken to treating her as though she were made of glass and it was beginning to grate her very last nerve. Yes, it was sweet and she loved him for it, but it was completely unnecessary. Add all the smothering to the horrible feeling she'd woken up with earlier in the morning and she was ready to fling him across the room. It had been so strange.

_Fear surrounded her, attempting to smother down any hope that so much as looked as though it may surface. Ichabod's hand in her own was the only warmth she felt. Gaze flickering about, she did her best to catch her breath, needing to find an escape for them._

_"Katrina..."_

_Ichabod's voice echoed at a distance and she suddenly realized he was no longer with her. Searching for the source of his call, but coming up empty, despair began to take hold. _

_"Ichabod!" she screamed, hoping he would return to her. "Ichabod! Come back!"_

_"Katrina."_

_Pressure on her arms prompted her eyes to snap open as she sucked in a ragged breath, attempting to decipher where she was._

_"Katrina, it's alright. I'm here."_

_Focusing her gaze, she found him hovering over her, his blue eyes etched in concern._

_"Ichabod?" She could scarcely believe the warmth she now felt from his body was truly real when not a moment ago, he'd been so far from her._

_"Yes, my love," he whispered, his fingers brushing her hair from her face. "Everything's alright."_

_Still confused, she heard herself make a strangled sound before she realized she was sobbing. "What? I don't-" She could barely get her words out without choking on them._

_"You were having a nightmare, thrashing about all over the place. Then, you began screaming my name." He brought a hand to wipe along her cheeks. "You scared me half to death."_

_With a nod, she attempted to get her breathing under control, but found herself too out of sorts to do so._

_"My love, look at me." Gaze focusing back on him, she took in his searching eyes. "It was only a dream."_

_"It didn't feel like a dream," she whispered. "It was real. You left me behind."_

_Of all things, a smile came to his face as his hand took up residence in its usual place amidst her red curls. "Me? Leave you behind?" He shook his head. "As if I could untangle myself from you long enough to do so."_

_She wanted to laugh at his attempt at calming her, but she simply couldn't shake her dream. "It's not funny, Ichabod."_

_His expression sobered, his eyes softening as he scooted closer to her, his head coming to rest on her pillow. He was so close that she could feel his warm breath wash over her skin._

_"Nothing in this world could ever make me leave you, Katrina." His hand slid over their baby protectively. "Neither of you."_

_"Promise?" she whispered, needing his assurance. Ichabod would never break a promise._

_With a kiss to her forehead, he answered softly. "I promise, my love."_

His words had soothed her for a time, but that sense of dread did not part from her. When those types of feelings came upon her, she found they always came to pass, whether they be good or bad. This time it was definitely something bad. Her thoughts had to be cast aside, however, as his return had Mary accompanying him. "Mary, is everything alright?"

Mary looked from her to Ichabod. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

Confused, Katrina looked to her husband as well. Seeing his eyes dart from hers, she suddenly realized what was going on. "You called her here? Ichabod, I am _fine_."

Shifting his feet, he turned to Mary. "She's in a rather touchy mood this morning."

Seething, she tried to stand, only getting angrier as Ichabod rushed forward to help her. Jerking her arm from him, she spat out. "I am not touchy. I simply don't enjoy being coddled, or tricked."

Sighing, Ichabod ran a hand down his face. "My love, is it so wrong of me to worry for your and our child's safety?"

Before she could answer, there was another knock at the door.

"Don't tell me, it's the Reverend come to pray over me."

He threw her a frustrated glare. "No, I'm not expecting anyone else."

As he exited the room, she turned to Mary with a sigh. "I'm sorry he called you here. I assure you, I'm perfectly fine."

Mary smiled. "It's alright. Though, the messenger he sent did make it sound as though you were already in labor."

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. "He's overprotective."

"Yes, well, I suppose if I must be honest, it's a bit sweet."

"It's annoying," she finished just as he rounded the corner again. At his rushed expression, she frowned. "What's wrong?"

He moved to the table to pick up his hat. "I have to go. Apparently, some of the men captured a supposed witch."

Sharing a concerned look with Mary, she observed her husband's hurried manner. "A witch? Who?"

"I'm not sure," he said, adjusting his belt. "All I know is they need me there for crowd control. People are panicking." He finally finished and moved to kiss her cheek, his face filled with worry. "Will you be alright? I hate leaving you like this."

Conjuring her best smile, she nodded. "I'm fine, my love." She squeezed his arm. "Please be careful."

With a nod, he began backing out of the room. "Mary."

"Ichabod."

When she heard the door shut, she quickly moved to the window to make sure he was gone. Seeing that he was, she turned back to Mary. "Go into town. See who they have."

Mary nodded, her calm stance long gone. "And then?"

"Report back to me at the church. I'm going to find Alfred."

Hesitating, Mary frowned, her brown eyes filled with concern as she shook her head. "But you're ill. We can take care of this, Katrina."

"If this is a member of our coven, it is my responsibility to make sure they are taken care of." Fixing her young friend with a pointed look, she finished, "Do as I've said, Mary."

After another moment of hesitation, Mary finally relented and turned to leave. Once she was out of the house, Katrina sighed. This day had just become much worse.

* * *

><p>"Are you sure this is wise?"<p>

She turned to Alfred with a stern gaze. "Are you suggesting we let Charlotte burn simply because it will be a little difficult?"

The man sighed. "Of course not, Katrina, but we're risking many of the other members to save this one girl."

Tightening her jaw, she turned back toward the center of town where the crowd had been gathering for the burning. "Well, Alfred, if it's ever you at the stake, I'll remember to leave you there for the good of the coven." She waved Mary over. "As it is, Charlotte has made no such requests, so we'll continue with our mission."

The man was wise enough not to speak again.

When Mary finally made it to them, Katrina asked, "Is everyone ready?"

Mary nodded. "They're in place and have been informed that no harm is to be done against anyone."

Good. Everything seemed to be going according to plan and now all there was left to do was wait.

The wait, however, wasn't long. Charlotte was led out just as soon as night fell over the town. As they tied the girl to the post, Katrina slowly made her way toward the front of the crowd, her hood grasped in her hands to be pulled over her head when the moment came. Charlotte was in quite a state as tears streamed down her face. Practically willing the girl to look at her, Katrina released a relieved breath when their eyes finally connected. With a reassuring nod to the girl, she moved away toward the cover of buildings as the magistrate stepped up on the platform next to the pyre to begin his customary speech. When the soldiers began to circle the pyre with torches, Katrina turned her head slightly to catch Mary's eyes.

With a nod, it began.

Summoning her power, she sent an explosion to the rear of the crowd causing all to turn in a panic. Using their distraction as an opportunity, Katrina watched as Mary ran forward, hood pulled up, to the pyre. Within seconds, Charlotte was freed and the two were making their way towards her. Sarah, another coven member, joined them as yet another planned explosion occurred on the opposite side of the square. The soldiers had yet to even notice Charlotte was missing as they were too busy with the flames and the crowd's panic. As the women reached her, she directed them to follow her down the alley. Upon reaching the other end, she paused and pointed to the trees beyond.

"Take to the trees. I'll meet you in the tunnels."

As they stepped out of the alley, she suddenly sensed someone approaching. Before she could warn the others, a shot rang out and she threw her hand up to catch the bullet from hitting its mark in Charlotte. Glancing at them, she ordered, "Go! Now!"

As soon as the words left her mouth, she was tackled to the ground. Whoever had her, had unexpectantly moved faster than she'd anticipated. Worry for her baby entered her mind as her attacker flipped her over, effectively pinning her arms to the ground above her head. As she gasped for breath, she summoned her magic to throw him from her when she felt her heart stop at the familiar blue eyes gazing down at her.

"Katrina?"

Ichabod's face bore shock, his eyes fixed on hers.

"I-" Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Charlotte move toward them. "Charlotte, no!"

It was too late. Ichabod was flung back into the building beside them, his body hitting it with a hard thud. Panic flew through her as she attempted to rise, but found she couldn't until Mary reached her hand down to help her up. "Are you alright?" Her friend's eyes were trained on her belly. Without any thought, her hand came protectively to cover her baby.

"I-" Her eyes fell to her husband who was staring at her from his place on the ground, his hand holding his bleeding mess of an arm. Her mind attempted to formulate why he was bleeding, but before she could process what to do, light began to flicker down the alley from torchlight signaling others were coming.

She knew she needed to, but she couldn't bring herself to move. "Ichabod..." From his stillness, she couldn't tell if he was breathing or not. She really didn't think he was as she knew certainly knew she wasn't.

Mary stepped in front of her, blocking her view of her husband. "Katrina, we have to go. _Now_."

Sarah nodded and stepped toward Ichabod. "We have to dispose of him."

That brought Katrina out of her state. "No," she bit out, grabbing the witch's arm, jerking her back. "Don't touch him."

Sarah spun toward her, her face contorted in anger. "He's seen all of our faces. He'll turn us in. Then, we'll all burn."

Eyes darting back to Ichabod, she found him glancing between them with wide eyes.

Mary spoke in a rushed tone, "We have to go, now. They're coming."

Nodding, Katrina grabbed Charlotte's arm. "Go."

"What's the point if we leave him alive? You know the law-"

She turned to Sarah with a stern glare. "Do not utter another word! I have ordered you to go, Sarah. Do as I have said."

The woman didn't move, forcing her temper to let loose, the result being a burst of flames cutting Sarah off from Ichabod. With a startled look directed at her, Sarah stumbled back and grabbed Charlotte's arm before she began running for the trees. With Mary pulling at her own arm, she gave a last glance to Ichabod, who was now standing with a look of bewilderment, and whispered, "I am so sorry, my love."

As they reached the trees, she turned back to find Ichabod now surrounded by others.

Sarah spun on her. "We should split up. He saw where we went."

Eyes not leaving her husband, Katrina shook her head. "I give the orders, Sarah. You follow them."

"But-"

"He's Katrina's husband, Sarah," Mary cut in. "He won't tell."

Even as the words left Mary's mouth, the soldiers took off in the opposite direction, allowing relief to wash through her as she tiredly leaned against a tree.

"We need to get to the tunnels." Turning to her three friends, she met each of their eyes. "Not a word of Ichabod to anyone, do you understand?"

Mary and Charlotte both nodded immediately, but Sarah was still. With an intimidating step toward the woman, she roughly whispered, "If you tell anyone that Ichabod knows about us, we will have a problem, Sarah, and trust me. You don't want to have a problem with me."

After another moment of reluctance, Sarah nodded.

Having that confirmation, she ordered, "Good. Now, to the tunnels."

* * *

><p>"I can never return here?"<p>

Katrina sighed. Upon reaching the tunnels, her first task had been taking Mary aside to acquire the assurance that her baby was alright. Fear that her jolt from earlier might have hurt her child somehow had plagued her. Mary's assurance that her baby was fine, however, had been quickly followed by Charlotte's frantic tears. "I'm sorry, Charlotte, but if you ever return here, there's nothing to stop them from arresting you again."

The girl's face fell even further. Wanting to comfort her, but knowing there was nothing she could possibly say, Katrina instead stepped forward and touched her arm.

"Charlotte, Alfred has gone to retrieve your family. When he arrives with them, you'll be escorted to Fredrick's Manor. It's a sanctuary for anyone needing it. Lachlan Fredrick's will make sure you and your family are safe."

Charlotte nodded, but tears still streamed down her face.

After a moment, Mary came to stand beside them. "Katrina, Alfred is here with her family."

With a sigh, she gave Charlotte a reassuring nod. "I hope we see each other again someday, Charlotte."

The girl's arms flew around her, taking her by surprise. "Thank you for saving me."

Eyes falling closed, Katrina wrapped her arms around her young friend. "Keep up your studies." As the girl pulled back, Katrina smiled. "You're a very talented witch, Charlotte. Always remember who you are and what you stand for."

Promising she would, Katrina watched as Charlotte made her way down the tunnel.

"What are you going to do?"

Sighing, she turned to Mary. "I've already informed Alfred of what to do. He's assigning someone to escort them to Fredrick's Manor."

Mary's eyes narrowed. "That's not what I meant, Katrina."

She knew that, but she'd been fighting off thoughts of Ichabod since they'd reached the tunnels. Now, though, she felt the moment of reckoning beginning to smother her.

"I don't know. I-" Closing her eyes, she brought a hand up to cover them. "He looked as though he didn't even know me."

"He loves you, Katrina. He'll understand."

Shaking her head, she caught her friend's eyes. "Will he? He and I- we..." With a deep breath, she whispered, "We made a promise to each other when we married. We promised to love and respect one another. But with very lie, every half truth I've told...I broke my promise to him."

Mary's mouth opened, but no words came.

Her dread from earlier in the day returned confirming what she'd already known. He was going to leave her. "I've kept this from him. What if he doesn't understand? What if he hates me?"

"He's not going to hate you, Katrina. The man is completely enthralled with you."

"I'm scared to go home," she whispered. "I can't-"

Mary laid a hand on her arm. "If you need me to, I can go with you and help you explain."

While the offer was kind and the terrified side of her wanted to accept, she shook her head. "No, I have to do this alone."

While she tried not to think it, she couldn't help herself. The thought still crept in. Very soon, she'd be alone, just as she'd always been.

* * *

><p><strong>Just a note for all of you kind souls enduring this story. I just wrote Chapter 44 to give you an idea of how long this thing is going to be. I guess you could say, I just finished the first part of introduction and now we will be venturing down part two, which will be very, very emotional...well as emotional as I'm capable of writing ;) It's going to get pretty rough and dark soon. There's a certain someone you're all going to despise coming up. <strong>

**Let me just say, I'm really having a hard time to keep my fingers off of the post a new chapter button.**

**Anyway, I keep adding chapters throughout when I think of stuff, but based on my best estimated guess, this story will be around 50-55 chapters. I hope you guys and gals stick it out with me :)**


	16. Chapter 16

_"Is this something you do often?"_

_Glancing up at him from her place where she was snuggly burrowed into his side, she gave a shrug. "Perhaps."_

_He raised an eyebrow indicating slight disbelief. "Alright."_

_"We don't all have a photographic memory, Ichabod. Some of us have to read things more than once."_

_His fingers slid through her hair again, twirling at the ends, then returning to the top to repeat the process. Something she'd discovered in their month of marriage was that he rather enjoyed playing with her hair. Upon her teasing of him for it, he'd practically melted her by answering that he'd been desperately longing to do such a thing for years. To say she now adored her husband's hands in her hair was quite the understatement._

_"How many times have you read Gulliver's Travels?"_

_Frowning in thought, she answered, "Four or five times."_

_His eyes widened. "Four or fiv-? Do you not own any other books?"_

_With a chuckle at his outrage, she set her book down and pulled from his arms in order to turn to him more fully. "It's my favorite."_

_"Obviously," he muttered, raising an eyebrow._

_Unable to stop her smile, she asked, "Do you not have something you like to read or do over and over? Something that never gets old or tiring?"_

_He leaned his head back against the headboard in seeming thought for a moment before a grin spread over his face._

_"What?" she asked in curiosity._

_His gaze slid down her form, then without warning, he gripped her waist and rolled her beneath him. Her surprise was met with his mouth on hers as he settled himself between her thighs. By the time he pulled back from his unexpected kiss, she was breathless, which only prompted another grin from him. "I, in fact, do have something I enjoy doing over and over."_

_Hands teasing his shoulders, she laughed and asked knowingly, "Do you, now?"_

_"Yes," he replied, his hands sliding along her sides. '"It's a rather recent hobby that I've discovered is very pleasurable in deed."_

_"Hmm...perhaps you should enlighten me. I do so enjoy pleasurable things."_

_Mouth nipping along her jaw line, he whispered, "Oh, I shall enlighten you, my love, with great pleasure."_

As she approached her home which she shared with her husband, she did her best to quell her building panic with other thoughts. It wasn't particularly working as every step she took that brought her closer to her looming hose had her breathing coming faster and shorter. There was a small, very small, part of her, that feared he'd be waiting for her, armed and ready to end her for her betrayal, for her revealed birthright. If that were the case, she couldn't help but think she would welcome it. A life without Ichabod's love was unthinkable. Then, of course, the rational side of her kicked in and stomped the thought down. No matter what, if there was one thing in all the world she knew to be true, it was Ichabod Crane's love for her. He would give himself over to darkness before he hurt her.

Silently slipping into her house, she thought she'd find him standing just inside, waiting for her so he could pepper her with questions. What she was greeted with, instead, was silence. Absolute silence. The entire walk home, she'd done her best to fill her mind with positive thoughts. He loved her. He'd always loved her despite all of her flaws and emotional shortcomings. He would love her still. She'd been building a huge wall only to now find that he wasn't waiting for her.

Journeying further into the house, she checked the sitting room and kitchen, but found both vacant, the dishes on the table exactly where they'd left them earlier. A slight worry that he'd been hurt worse than she had thought began to fill her. His arm had been bleeding something fierce. Perhaps he'd went to the infirmary.

Taking to the stairs, she got halfway up and had to pause to catch her breath. The baby was certainly taking up her energy, especially after the long day she'd just endured. That topped with the ache in her back from the jolt of Ichabod tackling her to the ground was slowing her considerably. Once her breathing was well enough again, she continued her upward journey. Upon reaching the bedroom, she found the door closed, which wasn't the way she'd left it. With a deep breath, she pushed it open. The room was lit by a candle at the bedside table and nothing more. As she stepped in, her foot encountered something on the floor, sending it skidding. Curiously glancing down, she found she couldn't see anything, prompting her to flick a hand at the hearth. When the room burst to life with light, she felt her breath catch.

It was torn apart.

Everything was out of the dressers and bedside tables. The chests were overturned, their contents emptied and scattered about the floor. Stepping further into the room, she knelt beside her mother's old chest that had contained her spell book. Not seeing it, she quickly glanced about the floor.

"Searching for this?"

Startled, she spun around to find Ichabod standing in the corner, her spell book in his hands.

"Ichabod..." His face was expressionless as he stared at her. Pushing herself up, doing her best to ignore the shot of pain it brought, she whispered, "I can explain."

"Can you?" he asked, stepping more to the center of the room. "Because I was wondering about that. Your ability to...explain."

His voice was cold, the sound of it sending a shiver through her. She'd never heard such a tone come from him.

"I'm sorry," she answered softly. "I never meant for you to find out this way."

"Don't you mean you never meant for me to find out at all?"

Unable to form a proper response, she shook her head and stepped toward him. "My love..."

He pointed a finger at her, his body tense. "Don't." With a harsh glare, he took a step forward as well and shoved the book into her arms. "How dare you keep something like this from me, Katrina."

Eyes falling to the book in her hands, she searched for words. "I-" Nothing more came.

"You said you loved me."

Her eyes flew back to his. "Ichabod, I love you more than anything."

She noticed his throat bob as he swallowed. "Will our baby-?"

Her hand came to her swollen belly, understanding that he was asking if their child would be the same as she. "Yes."

His eyes fell to her belly as he nodded. After a moment of silence, he stepped forward and grabbed her hand. Releasing the breath she hadn't realized she was holding, she allowed herself to relax, but that quickly changed as something hard slid against her palm. With a frown, she glanced down to find it was a bullet.

"What-?"

"You dropped it." She brought her eyes back to his to find him staring at her coldly. "After you caught it in your bare hand."

An overwhelming urge to simply fall to the ground and weep filled her. "You would have killed her."

"She had been _condemned_, Katrina. I was following orders."

"Like with Arthur Bernard, when you disobeyed orders and let him go?"

His eyes narrowed. "That was different. He wasn't a..."

Tilting her head to the side, she stared at him as his eyes fell from her. "Go on, Ichabod, finish it. He wasn't a what?" When he failed to produce words, she continued, "A monster? A demon? An abomination?"

"That's not-"

"Yes, it was," she cut in. "That's exactly what you were going to say." Blinking back tears, she gazed over at the flaming hearth. "I am not a monster." The bullet weighed heavily in her hands as she continued to roll it between her fingers. "I saved a young girl's life tonight. A young girl who was being persecuted simply because she was born with special gifts that others refuse to understand." Her eyes found his once more to find him staring at her in barely concealed agitation. "I won't apologize for that, nor will I apologize for who I am."

For a moment, they just stared at each other. Then, Ichabod spoke lowly, "I don't know who you are."

Her eyes fell to his shirt, unable to hold his hard gaze any longer. "I am Katrina Crane. _Your_ wife. The mother of _your_ unborn child." Gaining her confidence, she resumed her stare with him. "I'm also leader of a coven known as Sisterhood of the Radiant Heart." His eyebrows shot up. "I am exactly who I told you I was the day we met. I fight for the conviction that _every_ life is precious, even those that society deems as less than worthy."

A heavy breath fell from him as he turned from her to stare into the hearth. "Why?"

Even though he couldn't see her, she shrugged anyway, her body beyond tired. "Fear can make you do many things."

He shook his head, his eyes narrowing in the light of the flames. "That's not the reason you didn't tell me."

"Ichabod-"

He spun back to her, pointing a finger at her. "You know I would've accepted you."

Yes. She knew that.

"It is such a very long story, Ichabod. One that is going to take its toll on us both. Please...can we discuss this tomorrow?"

"You expect me to wait?" he asked incredulously.

"I expect you to understand that I am exhausted, not only from the day I've had, but also from carrying our baby. You know how tired I was this morning."

His eyes ventured to her swollen belly and a shadow of concern crossed his features. "I didn't-" His eyes jumped to hers before falling back to her belly. "I didn't hurt it, did I?"

Hands resting protectively against their unborn child, she shook her head. "No, the baby's fine. Mary assured me."

He gave a small nod before turning back to the flames which drew her gaze to his blood soaked shirt. Feeling more unsure of herself than ever before, she whispered, "You're hurt."

His arm flinched as his gaze fell to it and he muttered, "I'm fine."

With a deep breath, she took a step toward him. "I can heal you."

Eyes jerking to hers, he frowned. "What?"

"I-" she stuttered, his steely gaze making her feel self-conscious. "I can heal your wound."

When he didn't seem to be comprehending, she took another hesitant step toward him. Once she was standing directly in front of him, she dropped her gaze to his wound and gently took it in her hand, doing her best to ignore the way he tensed at her touch. Hands shaking, she carefully pulled the blood soaked material from his skin before taking in the deep gash. Biting her lip, she summoned her magic to the surface and observed the skin begin to mend. When it was finished, she sucked in a shaky breath before lifting her gaze to his. What she found made her want to fall to the floor in a sob. He was staring at her as though she were some sort of monster.

"Ichabod," she barely got out as her tears came, her throat closing off. "My love, ple-"

"I'll see you in the morning," he cut in, stumbling back from her.

Realization that he was about to leave her for the night filled her, causing her to quickly reach for his hand.

"Please, don't go. You promised," she whispered desperately. "You promised you wouldn't leave me."

As he stared at her with a number of emotions flickering across his face, she felt the dread of her dream returning. The thought that she would be forced to sleep alone without him was one she didn't wish to contemplate at this time, not when their time together was always so precious.

He shook his head. "I'm sorry. I can't."

With those words, he pulled from her and walked from their room. As his boots echoed against the wooden steps, complete devastation began to build within her.

He had left her and reality finally began to set in.

Everything had changed.


	17. Chapter 17

The moment consciousness entered her, she felt it.

Her entire body was sore. Starting with her pulsing headache and continuing down to her aching feet, she felt she was surely just nigh of death.

When she managed to push herself up, she noticed a rather nasty bruise covering her lower arm where Ichabod had tackled her the night before. With a frown, she glanced about her tossed room and felt it all came rushing back to her. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath in an attempt to keep herself from falling apart again, she brought a hand to her head. She'd done plenty of that the night before and she wasn't sure she could possibly cry anymore. The tears had started the moment he'd escaped her sight and she couldn't recall them ever ceasing. Sighing, she took another deep breath and forced herself to shove her blankets from her body. She managed to get herself out of the bed, though with great difficulty, but the moment she stood, she felt as if she needed to lie back down at the pain that shot through her. Leaning against the bedpost, she brought a hand to her belly.

"You need to calm yourself, little one. You're not coming today or tomorrow. You're staying right where you are, my little Jeremy Crane."

With that, she set about maneuvering through the mess covering the floor of her bedroom. Admittedly, she took her time in dressing as she knew the dreaded journey downstairs would likely only worsen her mood.

Upon making her way downstairs and searching, however, she found Ichabod to be absent. Not having the slightest idea of where he could be, she made her way into the sitting room to rest. Feeling absolutely exhausted, she leaned her head back and attempted to calm herself. She'd been feeling this way for the last couple of days which is what had prompted Ichabod to avoid leaving her the previous day. Now that she was in this situation, she wished she'd told him just how awful she'd felt and begged him to stay in bed with her all day.

After a time of fighting to ignore the pain she was feeling, she rose and made her way to the door, determined to extend her search for Ichabod to town. He was the one who had wanted to talk last night. She'd thought he'd be waiting for her when she came down the stairs ready to accuse her and pepper her with more questions, but apparently he'd changed his mind. That combined with the sinking feeling that her little one had decided to come sooner than expected, she knew she needed to find him. She feared her fall from the day before had done more than Mary had detected with her sensing.

As she began her walk towards town, she glanced to the sky. It was the perfect reflection of her feelings. Dark and stormy. It would no doubt open up and let a flood fall soon enough. With that thought, she considered her own emotions and attempted to sort out just what she would say to him when she found him. How could she start? All the secret meetings and half truths had built over their time together. She'd always done her best to be as truthful as possible, but she doubted Ichabod, who always told her everything, would understand that. If only he would give her the time to explain. Her coven's law was unavoidable, which only worried her more. She could only hope and pray that Sarah would not reveal Ichabod's knowledge of them. In time, she would have to face that problem, but today her husband would come first.

"Katrina."

Turning, she noticed Alfred standing just outside the Post. As she made her way toward him, he held out a hand and helped her up to the boardwalk.

"Did you make it home alright last night?"

With a nod, she sighed. "It depends upon your definition of alright." She glanced down the street. "Have you seen Ichabod this morning?"

"Yes," he replied causing her gaze to jump to him.

"You have? Where?"

"I saw him enter the tavern with Mr. von Brunt about half an hour ago."

"With Abraham?" she asked incredulously. The fact that he was in a tavern this early in the day barely registered with her, but for him to be with Abraham? For some reason, that only filled her with more dread.

"Yes, I spoke with both of them and, I must say, your husband was in a rather foul mood."

Disregarding his comment, she glanced down the street to the tavern's entrance. "Is he still there?"

"I believe so, yes."

Without another word, she began walking in that direction.

"Katrina, you shouldn't go in there in your state."

"My state is fine, Alfred," she bit out irritated.

"Not your mood, your baby. All manner of illness is most likely lingering in that place."

His words slowed her steps, but did not stop them. Alfred's hand resting on her arm, however, did. "I'll inform him you're out here."

Without waiting for her response, Alfred made his way into the building. Sighing, she brought a hand to her head, knowing this day was going to wreck her emotions worse than they already were and it wasn't helping that her pain was not ceasing.

"Katrina, how wonderful to see you."

She dropped her hand at Abraham's voice. They were both approaching with Alfred just behind them. While Abraham had a rather broad smile for her, if not somewhat strange, Ichabod looked less than thrilled to see her.

"Abraham, I hope you don't mind my interrupting your morning, but I need to speak with my husband."

Abraham opened his mouth to respond, but Ichabod cut in before he could. "I have no desire to speak with you."

Ignoring the sting of his words, she clenched her jaw. "Perhaps I've been too kind to you and have allowed you to forget that you don't always get what you desire."

His eyes narrowed. "Perhaps you should learn your place in a marriage and realize I don't answer to you."

Blinking rapidly, she nearly reeled back.

"Mr. Crane," began Alfred. "This isn't the place to argue with your wife."

Ichabod threw Alfred a glare. "Do not begin to tell me where and where not to argue with my wife. It's none of your concern."

"Alfred," she began, intent on letting him know she was fine, but was met with a questioning glare from her husband causing her words to falter.

"Alfred?" Ichabod inquired as he glanced between them, settling on Alfred with a frown. "Of course, I understand now. You're like her, aren't you?" He chuckled and asked roughly, "Don't you think that's a bit hypocritical, _Reverend_?"

"Ichabod," she whispered, eyes widening slightly as she shot a look at Alfred, who was staring at her husband wide eyed. The number of people beginning to become privy to her husband's new knowledge was steadily growing and it needed to stop if they were ever to survive this.

Ichabod threw up his hands. "Is everyone in this God forsaken town full of secrets?" He pointed at a passerby. "What about you? Any secrets you care to share, Madam?" He gestured to the startled man beside her. "Is this your wife? I sure hope you enjoy surprises because it would seem the women of this town quite enjoy their secrets."

Having had enough, she reached and gripped his arm. "Stop it."

He spun to her, ripping his arm from her grasp. "Don't touch me." His eyes were cold, his stance threatening. "I suppose I owe you congratulations, Abraham."

With a glance at Abraham, she found an odd expression on his face, one she couldn't place, but as soon as her eyes met his fully it vanished as he asked, "What?"

Ichabod's eyes, never leaving hers, narrowed. "You escaped marriage to a lying charlatan." Emotions ranging from rage to heartbreak, she stepped back from his cold glare. "I wish I'd followed my better judgment."

"What?" she whispered, dread filling her.

He shook his head. "I never should have married you."

"Ichabod..." She couldn't breathe. "You don't mean that."

"I knew it felt wrong," he whispered. "This entire time, I've felt such guilt...now I know why."

Desperation took root. "You know I love you."

"No, you don't know the meaning of the word," he whispered causing her breath to hitch. "Your father made sure of that, didn't he? He ruined you so badly that you're now just one big facade and now I finally see that the woman I'm in love with never existed in the first place."

Without another word, he brushed past her.

Vision blurring, her eyes darted about the street taking in the fact that Abraham and Alfred were both standing stone still.

"I-I can't breathe."

As she began to collapse to the ground, she felt arms wrap around her to ease her fall.

"Katrina-" It was Abraham. "Are you alright?"

Shaking her head, she grasped at his shirt with a whimper. "No."

Abraham tightened his hold about her. "We should get you home."

"No," she said with a shake of her head. "No, I don't want to go there."

He pushed back her fallen hair. "You can't stay here."

With a deep breath, she attempted to push herself up, but found between her state and her baby, she couldn't.

"Here," Abraham whispered as Alfred stepped forward to help her up. "Where would you like to go? You shouldn't be alone."

She caught Alfred's eyes. "I'll go to the church with Alfred."

Abraham frowned. "The church?"

Nodding, she parted herself from his grasp. "Yes, I-Alfred? Help me?"

He looped his arm through hers.

"Katrina," Abraham started.

"Thank you, Abraham," she interrupted. "But I'll be fine with Alfred."

With that, she allowed Alfred to begin leading her away.

After a time, she pulled from him and leaned against a tree.

"Katrina?"

Her body felt as though it were tearing itself apart.

"No..."

It wasn't time for this to be happening.

"Katrina? What's wrong?"

"Find Mary," she whispered.

"What? Why?" Alfred asked in clear concern.

She clutched at her belly. "My baby's coming."

His eyes widened as they fell to her hand. "Now?"

"Hurry."

With that, she slid down the tree, her body too weary to remain standing.

"I can't just leave you here."

She shook her head, pain shooting through every inch of her body. "There isn't time to argue." She fixed him with a stern gaze. "Go!"

He hesitated a moment longer before taking off in the direction of the infirmary. She wasn't sure how long she had sat there writhing in pain, but the feel of wetness hitting her prompted her to glance up to the dark sky which had finally let loose it's floodgates. Knowing she was about to be drenched, she scooted as far back against the tree as she could manage. Then, out of nowhere, she heard a voice.

"Katrina!" Startled, she found Abraham rushing toward her. "What's wrong?"

Frowning at his sudden appearance, she shook her head. "What are you doing here?"

He knelt beside her, pulling her away from the tree to lean against him. "I was coming to make sure you're alright." His gaze darted over her in concern. "What's wrong?"

"My baby's coming," she barely managed to get out.

"Your baby?" he asked with wide eyes. "We must get you to the infirmary."

As he began tugging her to her feet, she shook her head. "I can't move. Alfred went to retrieve Mary."

"Katrina," he scolded, with a glance to the sky. "You can't have a baby right here. We must get you to shelter."

Shaking her head again, she whispered, "I can't move. It hurts too badly."

Abraham's arms slipped beneath her legs and back as he lifted her up. "We're going to get you to the infirmary."

Biting back a scream at the searing pain, she nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck as the heavens released its flood, the rain now coming down hard. "Please hurry."

With a nod, he whispered, "You're going to be okay. I've got you."


	18. Chapter 18

**To the guest who left the review. Not sure if it'll mend the heart, but here's the next one :)**

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><p>They hadn't gotten far when she noticed Alfred approaching, Mary behind him. Both of them were completely soaked, but she couldn't bring herself to notice much else as her body felt as though it were tearing apart.<p>

"Katrina," Mary said, rushing forward. "What's wrong?"

"My baby."

Terror began to fill her even further as she uttered the words. The feeling that had began to overtake her was unlike any she'd ever felt.

Mary nodded with a glance to Abraham, whose arms were holding her tightly against him. "We're going to get you home."

Wanting to protest, but unable to as more pain shot through her, she nodded as her friends began to lead the way toward her house. Every step, though Abraham was being as gentle as possible, made her pain all the more searing.

As they reached her house and made their way up her back steps, Alfred rushed forward to open the door for them all.

Once they were inside, Mary stopped before the staircase. "We need to get her into bed."

Katrina shook her head. "You can't."

Mary looked at her confusedly. "Why not?"

"The room...it's not." She winced. "Ichabod tore it apart."

Mary nodded with a concerned face and hesitated for a moment before gesturing to the sitting room. "Ok. Through there."

Abraham carried her into the sitting room and gently settled her on the sofa as Mary knelt in front of her. "Katrina, what hurts?"

"Everything." Catching her friend's eyes, Katrina pleaded, "Please don't let anything happen to my baby. Please, Mary. You have to help me."

Her friend nodded and reached for her hand. "You know I'll do everything I can."

Another sharp pain shot through her forcing a scream from her.

"Abraham, we need blankets and towels," ordered Mary.

As Abraham took off to her tasks, Katrina did her best to calm her breathing. "Ichabod. I need Ichabod."

Mary stood up before moving to sit beside her and smooth a hand through her wet hair that was stuck to her face. "Where is he?"

Shaking her head, Katrina pushed out her reply. "I don't know. We had an argument. He said...Mary, he hates me."

Mary's face bore a sympathetic expression, but that was far from what she wanted at the moment. She wanted her husband.

"Mary, please, I need him."

Abraham hurriedly re-entered the room with the blankets and towels. Mary accepted them and began spreading the blankets out on the floor as Abraham sat beside her. With a scream, she reached for anything to clutch, the source being Abraham's hand, as another wave of pain shot through her. She felt if it didn't end soon, she'd surely pass out.

As she finished her task, Mary glanced to Alfred who was worriedly lingering in the doorway. "Find Ichabod Crane, now."

Alfred met her eyes. "Katrina, do you have any idea where he could be?"

She struggled to sort through her scrambled thoughts. "The river. Down past the mill. That's where he goes to think."

With a nod, Alfred left the room at a quick pace.

"Ok, Katrina, this baby will be here soon."

Conjuring as much defiance as she could, she shook her head. "We have to wait for Ichabod."

Mary gave a heavy sigh. "We can't wait. You know that. This baby is ready to come, now."

Unable to protest as another wave of nearly unbearable pain shot through her, she fell back against the sofa, still clutching Abraham's hand.

"Abraham, help me ease her down."

When they had her situated on the floor with her back against pillows from the couch, Mary lifted the hem of her dress.

"Oh God," she whispered.

Fear gripped her as she glanced to Mary. "Mary, what's wrong?"

Her friend's eyes shot to hers. "Nothing's wrong, but I hope you're ready to push because this baby is coming now."

Katrina frowned and shook her head in protestation. "I can't have the baby without Ichabod. He wanted to be here. He wanted to be here with me. It's all he has been able to talk about for months."

Mary gave her an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, but you know as well as I that we can't stop this."

Knowing her friend was right, but refusing to admit it, she gritted her teeth as her body went rigid with pain.

"Push, Katrina."

"I can't," she whimpered as she squeezed her eyes shut. "I need him."

It wasn't supposed to be this way. It was supposed to be Ichabod, not Abraham, here with her. Everything was wrong. She couldn't bring her baby into the world without Ichabod.

"You have to," urged Mary.

Shaking her head, she gasped for breath. "It hurts."

"I know. I know it does, but this is for your baby, Katrina. If you don't do this now, you could endanger the baby. Do you want that?"

"No," she whispered, feeling herself give way to more tears.

"Alright, now push!"

With all the strength she could muster, she did as asked. Arching back against the couch, she screamed.

"That's it," Mary encouraged. "That's wonderful, Katrina. Again."

The sound of the front door flying open caught her attention, then suddenly Ichabod was barreling around the corner, his eyes wild, his breathing heavy, and his body completely soaked.

Alfred came in behind him. "I found him coming up the street. We'll wait outside."

"No," she whispered desperately, meeting his eyes. "Ichabod..."

He was walking toward her before she'd even finished asking. Upon reaching her, he knelt beside her and took her free hand in his own, his eyes darting over her in worry. Realizing she was still clutching Abraham's hand, she pulled from him, using her now free hand to touch Ichabod's face.

"Don't leave me."

His mouth opened, but Mary cut in, "Ok, Crane's here. Now, Katrina, you have to push."

"I can't, Mary," she whimpered. "I can't. I'm not strong enough."

"Kat-"

"You can." His voice prompted her to jerk her eyes back to him. "If anyone can do this, you can, Katrina." His hand slid up to push her hair out of her face. "Bring our baby into the world."

Nodding against his hand, she glanced back to Mary. "Ok," she whispered. "Ok."

Mary smiled. "Push."

Her entire body felt as though it were tearing apart as she gave everything she had over to the next few minutes when, suddenly, a pressure released from her and she slumped in exhaustion as piercing cries filled the room. Closing her eyes, she did her best to gain control of her breathing.

"Oh, Katrina."

With a deep breath, doing her best to ward off the desire to give completely up, she opened her eyes to find her friend with a bright smile. "Mary?"

Mary glanced up at her. "It's a girl."

Her heart constricted in joy. "A girl?"

Mary nodded as she moved to kneel beside her, gently placing the small bundle in her arms. The first sight she caught of her baby, she felt herself slightly gasp.

She was everything.

Smooth pale skin. Tiny little fingers reaching outward. Eyes tightly closed to ward off light. A small nose and mouth.

The smile that now seemed permanently etched across her face could not be contained as she caught his gaze. "We have a daughter."

His eyes were already on the bundle in her arms. "A daughter."

"Yes," she whispered, taking in his wonder. "A beautiful daughter."

He seemed to be caught in some sort of trance as his eyes took in the small creature they'd created. "She's perfect."

Her smile widened, if that were at all possible. His hands were slightly shaking as he reached out to stroke their daughter's face.

"I'm a father." His blue eyes were practically sparkling.

"You are, my love."

When his gaze found hers, he frowned. "Katrina..."

Shaking her head, she whispered, "Not now."

Whether he was about to apologize or rebuke her even further was unknown to her, but at the moment all she wanted to do was concentrate on their daughter's first minutes in this world.

He nodded before his gaze fell once more. "She's not a Jeremy."

Chuckling, she followed his gaze. "No, she's not."

She'd been so sure they were going to have a son that she'd refused to even consider girl names.

_They were completely tangled in each other, his leg thrown over hers, his arm between hers and her body, surrounding her as his front pressed flush against her back._

_Releasing a more than satisfied breath, she sighed, "That was wonderful."_

_His warm breath brushed her cheek as he playfully nipped around her ear. "Was it, now?"_

_She couldn't contain her smile. "Yes, but don't let it go to your head. It's large enough as it is." She slid her hand behind her into his hair. "Pretty soon you'll barely be able to fit your hat on it."_

_"Well, then I suppose I'll have to stay indoors with you so no one will notice."_

_His hand was caressing her breast, his fingers toying with her nipple, pinching and pulling, drawing small little whimpers from her._

_"I wouldn't be entirely opposed to the idea," she whispered._

_A few moments of silence passed between them as she simply enjoyed the feeling of her husband's playful teasing._

_It was he who broke the silence. "What are we going to name it?"_

_Disentangling herself from him, she turned to face him with a smile. Since informing him of his impending fatherhood earlier in the night when he'd returned to her, he'd been on a mission to love every inch of her in appreciation of her gift to him. "I don't know. I haven't had much time to think about it."_

_He leaned up to prop his head in his hand, his gaze raking over her body, his free hand following._

_"Well, we have to name it something. It feels slightly odd to keep referring to it as 'it'."_

_She gazed up at him with a happy smile. The very idea that he wanted to pick out a name for their baby filled her with such joy. "Did you have anything in mind?"_

_He shrugged, his hand ghosting over her hip. "Not particularly."_

_Sucking in a shaky breath as his hand slid between her thighs, she gripped his upper arm. "No favorite uncles?"_

_His gaze came to hers. "My grandfather's name was Jeremy. I liked him. He was a very intelligent and kind man."_

_She smiled. "Jeremy. I like that name."_

_"Mhm," he mumbled as his gaze returned to his hand, the fingers of which were now thoroughly probing her depths. "I didn't like any of the female names, though. I suppose we'll have to choose from your side."_

_Arching her lower body up slightly, she shook her head."There's no need. Jeremy will be fine."_

_His eyes found hers once more. "You don't think our daughter will be frowned upon for being named Jeremy?"_

_"It's going to be a boy," she assured confidently._

_He raised an eyebrow. "Is it, now? And just how do you know that?"_

_She smiled. "Because I just know."_

_He chuckled. "What if I want a girl?"_

_Shaking her head, she slid her hand down his arm to slip between their bodies. "You don't."_

_The jerk of his body as she wrapped her fingers around him filled her with a generous amount of lust. It always did._

_Head falling to her shoulder, he moaned, "Katrina..."_

_"Yes, my love?" she whispered as she ran her thumb over his tip._

_Lifting his head, his eyes darted over her face. "I want you desperately."_

_She smirked. "You just had me...a number of times...in a number of ways."_

_His fingers left her, prompting a moan of protest from her. "Ichabod-"_

_Her words were cut off as he pulled her atop him, taking her by surprise. Once she gained her bearings, she adjusted herself to straddle his abdomen._

_"Is this how you want me this time?"_

_He nodded, a pleased look taking over his face. "Do with me what you will, my love."_

_Flexing her jaw, she raised an eyebrow as her hand slipped down her body to stroke along herself. "How long do you have?"_

_His eyes on her hand, he shook his head. "Before you did that, I might have had a while, but now..."_

_His fingers dug into her thighs._

_"No," she said as she pried his hands from her and placed them over his head. "Keep them there until I tell you otherwise."_

_"Katrina..."_

_She noticed his hands grip his pillow as she dipped a finger within herself, his body jerking beneath her._

_"You're trying to kill me," he breathed out, his eyes trained on her gentle stroking._

_With a smirk, she whispered. "I haven't even begun to attempt that, Mr. Crane, but I assure you, you'll be begging me to end your suffering soon enough."_

"I knew we should have picked a girl name."

Raising an eyebrow at him, she smiled. "I don't seem to recall you fighting me too hard on my decision that it was a boy."

He shrugged with a small smile, his finger thoroughly in the grasp of their daughter. "What are we going to name her?"

"I'm not sure, but it'll have to be perfect."

Their daughter was too beautiful not to have the perfect name.

"I'm sure we'll think of something appropriate," he whispered with a smile.

Taking in his joyful face, she smiled. Whatever the future brought, at least they had this moment.


End file.
